Pieces of the Whole
by The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien
Summary: 1year after Sam jumped into the Cage, Dean and Fiona are trying to move on with their lives. But when Sam comes back with company, they find out it's harder putting the pieces back together than it is breaking them apart. Part3 in the 'Family Ties' series
1. Exile on Main St

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'm definetly messing around with things for the 6th season. First and foremost being Sam Winchester and Samuel Campbell. While Sam's going to be emotionally distant-except where Fiona's concerned-he's not exactly going to be RoboSam.

As for Samuel, he's not going to be the dick that he was on the show. He'll be working with his grandsons more as an equal, rather than a boss.

Now when it comes to Fiona, she's still paralyzed and it'll be a while before that changes. She's got to deal with some things first. Also-although he doesn't show up in this first chapter-Gabriel will be back and a love triangle will start up with Sam and Gabe both fighting for Fiona's affections.

STORY SUMMARY: One year after Sam jumped into the Cage, Dean and Fiona are trying to move on with their lives. But when Sam comes back with company, they find out that it's harder putting the pieces back together than breaking them apart. (This follows my other two stories 'Family Ties' & 'And Fi Makes Three'.)

* * *

><p>SUPERNATURAL: Pieces of the Whole<p>

(NCIS crossover)

* * *

><p><em>(About a month before 'Swan Song')<em>

"Hello, Gibbs."

Jethro Gibbs looked up from the work he'd been doing on his latest woodworking project and saw his old boss and mentor, Mike Franks, standing there.

Well, sort of.

The person standing in the basement looked, sounded, and even smelled like Mike Franks but it wasn't him. Looking back down at the wood relief he'd been working on the past few days, Gibbs said, "You're not Mike."

The not-Mike Franks chuckled as he pulled up a sawhorse and sat down, pouring himself a drink from the bottle of bourbon that was sitting on the work table. "What gave me away?"

"Mike doesn't usually call me by my last name. It's usually 'Jethro' or 'Probie'," Gibbs replied, again laying his tools aside and looking up at the stranger wearing his old friend's face. "So you're another angel?"

Not-Mike smiled and shook his head. "Not quite. More like the Boss of all angels."

Gibbs met his eyes but if he seemed surprised, he didn't show it. "You're God?" he said, skeptically.

"Yeah," God replied, sipping his drink. "Thought it'd be harder for you to hate me when you saw me if I looked like this."

"Yeah, well, you were wrong," Gibbs said, his tone cold and his eyes hard as ice. "Kelly, Shannon, Jenny… Kate… All you've ever done is take the people I care about away from me."

"And I _gave_ you plenty back," God argued, even though there was no anger in his voice. "Fiona… The Winchester boys… Abby Scuito, Tony DiNozzo, Ziva David. I couldn't replace your family. So I gave you people who needed you to be theirs." When Gibbs left the table and went to the work bench, God sighed. "Look, I get that you hate me, Gibbs. And if it had been up to me, I would have spared that daughter of yours. But you should know that if Kelly had lived, she would have become a hunter, too. Just like Fiona."

"Why are you here?" Gibbs asked, annoyance in his voice.

God stood and ran his fingers on the unfinished woodwork before he looked Gibbs in the eye. "You're my true vessel, Gibbs. I'm here because I was hoping you'd say 'yes'."

Gibbs wasn't sure what to say to that. He didn't even know why he had been chosen. "If I do, can you bring Shannon and Kelly back?"

God cocked his head and gave Gibbs a look. "Is that what you really want?"

Gibbs thought about it for a while. In his heart, he knew that having his family back would always be his deepest desire. But he also knew that too much time had passed for him to easily step back into his old life. It would never be the same. "So what happens if I say 'yes'?" Gibbs asked, curious.

God laughed and resumed his seat on the sawhorse. "You go about your normal life," he said with a grin. "I just need a good vantage point to keep an eye on things. Especially Fiona Brendon and Dean Winchester. They're gonna need a lot more help in the future than angels can provide."

Gibbs poured himself a drink and sipped it for a while as he considered God's proposition. Finally, he finished his drink and nodded. "Okay."

* * *

><p><em>13 Months Later<em>

Life for Dean Winchester had changed dramatically over the past year.

It was little things at first—like avoiding the obits in the morning paper or not laying down salt lines at night.

After a couple months, Ziva had managed to talk Dean into going with her on her morning runs—something he got into regularly except on weekends.

He found a job at a local garage working on classic cars and the owner happened to be an old friend of Bobby Singer's.

Dean still took the occasional hunting job, but these days he never went fartheraway than Pennsylvania. Most of the jobs were local, though, and while he did feel guilty since he'd promised Sam he'd give up hunting for good, it just wasn't in him.

But Ziva was immensely understanding when Dean went to work a case. She knew that hunting monsters, demons, and ghosts was how Dean was dealing with his brother's death and all she could so was let him do what he needed to and welcome him with open arms when he got back home.

x

For Fiona, life without Sam was a wild mix of quiet, yet busy, days and long, lonely nights.

Gibbs had been patient, though. He knew what his goddaughter was going through and never pushed. When Fiona went back to her townhouse, he made sure she knew that she could call him at anytime for any reason.

Although Fiona didn't have to worry about money—there was still more than enough in her trust fund—being at home made her feel more depressed about what had happened.

After a couple months, Fi had managed to get into a comfortable routine revolving around her physical therapy sessions, weekly psych sessions with Ducky, working part time at a gun and knife store called the Bullet and Blade, and spending time at NCIS.

In the evening, Ziva would make dinner—sometimes with Dean's help—and she, Fi, and Dean would eat and talk.

At night, Fi would get a shower, letting the hot water wash over her as she sat on the shower bench. When she went to bed, sometimes she'd dream about Sam and when she did, she woke the next morning with a deep ache in her heart and couldn't stop looking at the empty side of the bed.

The only bright side was Gabriel who had all but officially moved in with Dean, Ziva, and Fiona. The archangel seemed to instinctively know when Fi or Dean were feeling particularly low about Sam and he always did something to pull them out of their funk. But it was never a big gesture. It was always something subtle that moved the memories from sad to happier.

* * *

><p>The bar was mostly empty as Dean and Fiona sat at the table, each holding a bottle of beer.<p>

It was May 2nd—Sam's birthday.

Dean sipped his beer and set the bottle down, smiling as he said, "Do you remember—you were 15 and I was 11—when Sam fell out of that tree in Colorado?"

Fi laughed as she nodded. "Sam ran away because your dad had yelled at him for the first time. He thought he was in big trouble when John found out that he'd gotten hurt."

Dean smiled as well, taking another swig of his beer. "And Dad was more freaked out because Sammy'd broken his arm _and_ leg." His expression turned serious as he looked down at the condensation rings left by the beer bottle. "He'd be 28 today."

Fi nodded and held up her bottle as she said, "To Sam."

"To Sammy," Dean repeated, clinking his bottle with Fi's. When he and Fiona had finished their drinks, they declined the waitress's offer for another round. After paying the bill, he asked, "So, you working tomorrow?"

Fiona shook her head. "No, I've got PT in the morning. You?"

Dean shrugged as he tore the bottom of the receipt off where the waitress had written her name and phone number. Hearing Fiona's quiet laugh, he looked up as he pulled out his wallet. "What?"

"So you and Ziva?" Fi said with a teasing smile. "It's that serious?"

Dean laughed as well as he dropped a 20$ on the table before putting his wallet back in his back pocket. "So get this," he said, leaning forward. "Past couple months Ziva's been giving me this look. This happy 'my life has never been better' look." When Fiona nodded that she was following along, Dean pulled out the folded page of a catalog. "And then I find this tucked into a book she's reading."

Fiona unfolded the page, she saw a stunning array of engagement rings. Trying to hide a smirk, she said, "Subtle."

"I love Ziva," Dean said quickly. "Don't get me wrong—I do. But getting married?"

Fiona almost burst out laughing as she looked at the back of the page. When Dean gave her a look, she gave him a pitying look and displayed the back of the page which was filled with lingerie models. One model was circled and the words 'Dean's birthday present' were written in Tony DiNozzo's handwriting. "Surprised you didn't notice that," Fi said, smirking.

xxxxxxxxx

When they got back to the townhouse, Dean stopped when he saw scratches on the stone outside. But when he looked again, he saw that it was just shadow from a tree branch across the streetlight nearby. As he and Fi went inside, he tried to shrug off the prickling on the back of his neck that said that something unnatural was going on.

Going to his computer in the living room, Dean started looking for anything out of the ordinary. There were a couple drug overdoses and the usual smattering of murders, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Fiona wheeled up to him, trying not to look worried. "You okay?"

"Ahh, just a feeling," Dean replied, stretching. "I don't know. Something feels off, you know?"

Fiona didn't say anything, but she knew that Dean got like this after thinking about Sam. He'd left Christmas morning to go after a ghost. Before that at Thanksgiving, Dean had gone alone to chase a wendigo and ended up in the hospital for almost a month. She wanted to say something about how it was okay to miss Sam, but Fi knew from experience that some things were better left unspoken.

Heading into her bedroom, Fi decided to pass on the shower and managed to get changed into her pajamas with few problems. As she got into bed, she closed her eyes and felt the tears fall down her cheeks. "I miss you, Sam," she whispered, her voice cracking. Moving so she was on her side, she got as comfortable as she could and tried to sleep.

* * *

><p>Dean woke early the next morning when he felt Ziva get out of bed.<p>

"Are you okay?" she asked, watching her boyfriend carefully. He'd come to bed late and had been tossing around all night—it was typical if a case or Sam was on his mind, but if it had been a case, Dean usually slept late so he'd be well rested to deal with the… whatever.

"I'm good," Dean assured Ziva as he got up and stumbled into the bathroom. After a second, he looked back at her and grinned. "Join me in the shower?"

Ziva smiled at Dean and silently pulled off her sleepwear as she walked towards the bathroom, closing the door and locking it as soon as she was inside.

They made love in the shower, enjoying how the water raining down over their bodies always seemed to heighten the experience.

After getting dressed, Dean went downstairs to Fiona's room and found that she was already up and dressed in track pants, slip-on shoes, and a tank top—her usual outfit for physical therapy.

Dean studied his oldest friend, trying to figure the right morning greeting. If she'd been dreaming of Sam the question 'how'd you sleep?' would be greeted with a cool silence. 'You okay?' would likely be answered with hostility, and 'need any help?' would be greeted with angry stubbornness.

"I'm okay, Dean," Fiona said to the unasked question as she wheeled over to her dresser and grabbed her dogtags. After pulling them on and grabbing the bag she took with her for her Physical Therapy sessions, she dropped the defensive tone and said, "Really."

Dean sat down on the bed and rubbed his face with one hand. "I just… don't know how to talk to you sometimes."

Fi nodded, understanding entirely. "Look, Ziva said she'd give me a lift to PT. But when I get home we'll talk okay?"

Dean just nodded and a short while later, after he watched the two most important women in his life head out for the day, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

When Ellen picked up, Dean went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.

"Dean? You okay, honey?" Ellen said, a touch of concern in her voice.

"Yeah," Dean assured her, knowing that if he didn't, the next thing he'd hear was Ellen Elizabeth Harvelle-Singer knocking on the front door. "Just checking in."

"Uh-huh," Ellen replied, not sounding convinced. But as Dean just started talking, the remarried hunter could quickly tell that Dean was lonely for his brother. As far as she knew, Bobby hadn't spoken to Dean since the day Sam died, even though he'd spoken to Fiona several times over the past year. When the younger man finally fell silent, Ellen said, "Bobby's been trying to get a hold of you, you know."

"Yeah," Dean sighed, wearily. "I just… It's complicated, Ellen."

She could certainly understand that. After a few more minutes, Ellen said 'good-bye' and let Dean hang up first.

x

When Dean headed out a short while later, he felt like someone was watching him. He took a few new turns on the way to the garage and when he arrived, he felt a wave of panic wash over him when he saw that the place was closed and there was yellow powder on the ground near the doorway.

Going back to the old pick-up truck he'd bought about 8 months before, Dean pulled out his gun and went back to the door, finding it unlocked. As he cautiously went inside, the door suddenly slammed and locked behind him. Before he could even look around, he was flung across the room and pinned to the wall. Looking for the demon responsible, he felt his heart race when he saw Fiona walking towards him. "Fi…" he said, nearly crying. "No…"

"Oh, not even close, Deanie-poo," Fiona said with a smile. "But she did stab me in the gut."

"Lilith," Dean said, breathless. "That's not possible!"

"Sure it is, silly goose," Lilith said, laughing. "First… I'm going to snap each and every bone in your body. And then you're going to watch as I kill everyone you ever cared about."

"No!" Dean shouted. But his brain was going fuzzy and as Lilith approached him, he thought he saw Sam just before everything went dark.

* * *

><p>Sam felt a rush of relief when he saw that that the cure was working. Dean was still unconscious, but his breathing had gone back to normal, so that was a good sign. Still, Sam needed to get his brother out of here and somewhere safe, just in case the djinn decided to make a return visit.<p>

x

Three hours later, Sam deposited Dean onto a bed in the bedroom of an old, abandoned hunting cabin. He sat on the other bed in the room and waited for Dean to wake up. He knew it could be a while—the poison did mess with your system and even the antidote was no picnic. But it gave Sam time to think. He looked down at the Claddaugh ring on his hand and wondered where Fiona was. Had she been infected as well? This past year it felt like his emotions had been frozen or something. Physical sensations were as sharp as ever, but emotions seemed to elude him sometimes.

He remembered watching from across the street as Ziva, Dean, Fiona, and Gibbs ate dinner in the living room of Gibbs' house. Just pizza and beer by the looks of things. He'd felt… Well, there was certainly relief that Dean was okay. And he did kind of miss Fiona…

It was as if Sam was watching the world with the sound turned down or something. His feelings and emotions were muffled and it made him feel uneasy.

"Dean still out?" said a gruff voice from the doorway.

"Been two hours," Sam replied, a faint feeling of worry starting to settle on him.

Samuel Campbell looked from one grandson to the other. After coming back from the dead and finding out that his wife, daughter, and son-in-law dead, Samuel hadn't known what to do with himself. So he'd fallen back on the one thing he knew better than anyone else: hunting.

On a job dealing with a ghost in Pittsburg, PA, Samuel had run across his younger grandson, Sam, and the two finished the job together before finding a bar and talking. They'd decided to work together to try and find out why they were back and as they had gone along, Samuel had learned more than he'd wanted to know about the family he had left.

Hearing a light groan coming from Dean, Sam and Samuel turned to him, Sam perching on the edge of the bed, watching his brother as he opened his eyes. "Dean? You okay?"

"So I'm dead?" Dean said, looking from his brother to his grandfather as he sat up. "This is Heaven? Lilith killed me and—"

"Lilith?" Sam said, a bit startled by that. He'd thought maybe Dean would have seen Azazel or Alastair.

"She possessed Fiver," Dean said, still sounding slightly groggy.

"'Fiver'?" Samuel repeated, looking confused.

"Uh, Fiona's nickname," Sam explained, quickly. Focusing on Dean, he said, "Dean, you were poisoned. So whatever crazy crap you think you've been seeing, it's not real."

Dean thought of what he'd seen at the garage earlier that day. Lilith, the sulpher… "So, then are _you_ real, or am I still…?"

"We're real, Dean," Sam assured his brother, indicating himself and Samuel. "We both ran each other through the tests. Salt, holy water, silver, iron… the works."

Both Winchesters stood and Dean studied his brother for a moment before he said, "Sammy?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, nodding. "It's me."

Dean hugged Sam and he felt him hug back. God, right now he didn't care if this was a hallucination. His little brother was back and that was all that mattered. Wait a second… Backing away, Dean said, "Wait, you-you were gone. That was it. How did you…?"

"No idea," Sam admitted, shrugging. "I mean, I looked—really. But no leads. Best I can tell, God had nothing to do with it—or Celeste or any of the other angels."

A sneaking suspicion was creeping over Dean and he asked, "Sam, how long have you been back?"

"About a year," Samuel replied, walking over to Sam. "And before you go on about your brother not telling you… he had his reasons, okay?"

"You had what you wanted, Dean," Sam added. "A normal life. And the last thing I wanted to do was ruin that."

"Normal?" Dean repeated, incredulously. "Sam, I _never stopped_ hunting. I'm not _made_ for anything else!" Rubbing his face with one hand, he sighed. "I tried, okay? I did. But this is what I am, Sammy, and you know it." Taking a moment, he said, "Look, at the very least, you should have told Fi."

"She's better off without me," Sam said, looking stoic. He still remembered snapping Fiona's spine, watching her fall to the ground… The look of comprehension and horror in her eyes as she realized she was paralyzed again. "Besides, Celeste probably healed Fi after I was gone, right?"

But Sam hadn't been expecting his brother to haul off and punch him, hard, in the face. "'Better off'?" Dean shouted, his anger barely contained. "Do you have any idea how many times Fi cries her self to sleep at night? And in case you didn't know, Fiona's still paralyzed!"

"What?" Sam said, stunned by that news. And then he realized that the few times he'd seen Fiona, she'd been sitting down. Because she was back in the wheelchair. "Dean, I swear if I'd known I would have said something to you. You've got to believe me."

Dean backed off a bit, his mind reeling. Looking at Samuel, he said, "So what about you?"

"One minute I'm in Heaven watching Deanna giving birth to Mary, the next I'm laying in a cemetery in front of my own headstone," Samuel replied, shrugging. "Kind of trippy, really."

Sitting back down on the bed, Dean looked up at Sam and asked, "So what were you doing at the garage?"

Knowing that further discussion of the events of the past year was being put on hold, Sam replied, "I got hit before you. Couple days ago—dosed up with poison."

"By?" Dean asked, wondering just what monster had tried to kill him this week.

"A couple of djinn," Sam replied, still surprised at the way the two beings had looked. "Apparently, they've switched tactics. You know, they look like regular people and all they have to do to kill you is touch you. Toxins get into your system and next thing you know you're hallucinating your worst nightmares. Pretty soon, you OD."

"So then how are you still breathing air?" Dean wanted to know. "Or me, for that matter?"

"Samuel had a cure," Sam explained, calmly.

Dean's eyes widened at that. Looking at his grandfather, he said, "You just happened to have a cure for _djinn poisoning_?"

"Oh, I know a _few_ things," Samuel said, his tone a bit defensive. "Stick around and I'll show you tricks your dad never even _dreamed_ of."

"Okay, so why are these things after us?" Dean wanted to know. God, he wished he'd never gotten out of bed this morning. "I mean, yeah, there was that one years ago, but why seek revenge now?"

But neither Sam nor Samuel had any response to that. Sam shrugged as he said, "No idea. As soon as they came after me, we were pretty sure they were going to go gunning for you next. So I started following you." Catching Dean's look, Sam smiled. "Had to protect my big brother after all, right?"

Dean nodded, distractedly. Suddenly, panic hit him and he said, "Wait, Fi doesn't know. Those things could go after her and Ziva!" Pointing to Sam, he said, "You've gotta take me home right now!"

Sam, Samuel, and Dean headed out to Sam's car and got in, heading away from the house and back towards DC.

* * *

><p>The house was empty when the car pulled into the driveway and the three men quickly hurried inside, looking around.<p>

"Fi?" Dean called, looking around, not sure whether he should be relieved or scared that she wasn't there.

"There's no one here, Dean," Samuel said as he met his grandsons in the kitchen. "Is it possible she went out or something?"

"Fiona doesn't date," Dean snapped, shooting a glare at Sam.

"She hasn't been dating?" Sam repeated, frowning slightly. "Why not?"

Dean repressed the urge to hit his brother again and snapped, "I don't know. Maybe because you broke her heart when she thought you were _dead_?"

"You guys _promised_—" Sam started, but he was cut off by his brother punching him a second time. Straightening up, he Gave Dean a look as he asked, "Feel better?"

Before Dean could hit Sam again, Samuel grabbed his arm. "How about the two of you finish this after we find your friend?" Looking from Sam to Dean, he pressed, "Okay?"

Dean nodded and relaxed. But when he heard the front door open, he tensed, grabbing his gun and whirling about to aim it at—"Fi!"

Sam and Samuel turned to see Fiona coming into the room and Sam was caught off by a sudden stab of guilt. For some reason, now that he was around Fi again, it was as if his emotions were suddenly back to normal. Looking at the pain and anger in Fiona's eyes, Sam was suddenly happy that she didn't have a gun handy.

"Fi… it's really Sam, okay?" Dean said, quickly as he saw Fiona tense. When she quickly grabbed the shotgun by the door, he added, "I tested him, Fi. Salt, holy water, everything."

"Look, I know you're probably pissed at me," Sam said as he cautiously approached Fiona. But he staggered backwards when Fi fired a round of rock salt into his left leg. "I'm not a demon!" Sam insisted, although he shut up when Fi cocked the shotgun again.

"Fi, please give me the shotgun," Dean insisted. When she finally handed the weapon over, Dean looked over at Sam. "You okay?"

"I've had worse," Sam replied, groaning lightly as he sat down on a chair in the kitchen. When Dean and Fiona headed to the living room to talk, Sam looked at his grandfather. "Well, that went better than I expected."

"She shot you," Samuel said, frowning. "How could it have gone worse?"

"It could have been something other than rock salt," Sam replied, looking at his pants, wincing as the salt burned. Gesturing to the bedroom, he said, "I'm going to change… That is, if Fi didn't get rid of all my clothes."

x

An hour later—the rock salt wounds treated and the torn pants stuffed in the trash can—Sam went back to the living room and found Fiona in the living room. "So…" he said as he sat down on the couch.

"Sorry I shot you," Fi said, honestly.

"I'm okay," Sam assured her with a light smile. Looking at Fi, he said, "So… why did you…?"

"Why didn't I let Cas or Celeste heal me?" Fi finished. She shook her head. "After you were gone I was depressed, angry, hurt… I just didn't care if I couldn't walk."

Sam was quiet for a while and finally he said, "This past year… I don't know. It's like I know what I'm supposed to feel, but the emotions aren't really there, you know?" Looking at Fiona, he went on. "Being with you… It's like things are starting to feel right again."

Fiona was about to say something, but she stopped and looked up when Dean and Samuel came in. "So what's going on?"

"We've got a couple angry djinn on the loose," Samuel replied. "Dean and I are going to take care of them and Sam's going to stay here with you."

"I don't need a babysitter," Fiona snapped, irritably. "Believe it or not, I am capable of defending myself."

Seeing Samuel about to say something, Dean stopped him before he did something stupid. "We know, okay?" Dean said, quickly. "And besides… you and Sammy need to talk, right?" Before Fiona could say anything, he hurried his grandfather out to Sam's car and got behind the wheel before adjusting the seat.

"Mind explaining what all that was about?" Samuel asked, half out of curiosity and half out of annoyance.

As he started the car, and pulled out of the driveway, Dean said, "Did Sam tell you about Lilith?"

Samuel nodded. "Yeah. He said Fiona stabbed herself to kill the demon and that that was how she ended up paralyzed the first time."

"Fi spent weeks in the hospital and when she got out, she was in rehab off and on for almost 8 months. All the while she was still hunting with me and Sam," Dean explained as he drove. "So, yeah. Fi may be stuck in a wheelchair, but don't ever insinuate that she's helpless. Especially not if she's armed."

"I'll keep that in mind," Samuel replied, nodding.

* * *

><p>It was late when Ziva got back to the townhouse and if she was surprised to see Sam alive and well, she didn't show it.<p>

While Sam made sure the house was secure, Fiona watched Ziva as she started baking some sort of casserole she'd made and frozen a few weeks ago. "You're acting rather calm about the fact that Sam is miraculously out of Hell," Fiona said as she wheeled up to the kitchen table. "Did you know?"

"If you are asking if I knew that Sam was alive," Ziva said, turning to give Fiona a sympathetic look. "I did not." Watching her friend look around nervously, Ziva wondered what would happen now. Would Dean and Fiona rejoin Sam on hunts? Or would they stay here and let things keep going on like they had been?

* * *

><p>Fortunately for Dean, he and Samuel had found the djinn and after dispatching the creatures, the two hunters found a bar and after ordering a couple beers, Samuel said, "You did a good job, Dean."<p>

"Thanks," Dean replied, just a touch surprised by the comment. "Not too bad yourself," he added.

Samuel shrugged. "I've been doing this for years, Dean. My Dad started training me when I was about 10."

Dean smirked and said, "My dad had me shooting cans off of a fence when I was 6."

Samuel was quiet as he thought of how to voice his next thought. But after a while, he said, "You know, your mom may have wanted a normal life for you, but I think she'd have been proud of the way you and your brother turned out."

"You think so?" Dean asked, sounding a bit doubtful at that.

"Yeah, I do," Samuel replied, nodding earnestly. "Look, Dean, hunting is in your blood. I mean, you had ancestors hacking the heads off vamps on the _Mayflower_."

Dean was surprised at that. He'd known that his grandparents had been hunters but finding out that he came from a very long line of hunters had never occurred to him. "So what are you going to do now?"

Samuel sipped his beer and after setting the bottle down, he said, "Something's going on with the monsters lately. Werewolves are out on the half-moon. Creatures native to places on the other side of the planet are popping up here in the states. Right now your brother and I are trying to figure things out but we could use your help."

Dean thought long and hard about that. The idea of being back on the road with his brother… It was something he wanted very much, indeed. And he was sure that with Sam back in the picture Fiona would be in a much better headspace. Maybe now, Dean could even convince her to call Castiel to undo the paralysis.

But before any of that happened, Dean knew that there was something he had to do first.

* * *

><p>Never a light sleeper, Ziva woke immediately when Dean entered the bedroom at 3 in the morning the following day. "Dean," she said, worriedly, as she sat up, throwing back the bed covers. "Are you alright?"<p>

"I-I know it hasn't been easy living with me this past year," Dean said as he sat next to his girlfriend. Looking down at his hands, he sighed before looking at her. "I'm so sorry, Ziva. For everything."

Ziva frowned and after a moment said, "You are an idiot." When Dean gave her a look, she said, "I mean, it wasn't perfect but we were in it together. Even with you being a… a crash half the time—" Seeing Dean about to correct her phrasing, Ziva held up a hand to stop him. "Yes, I know I used the wrong word!" she snapped. Taking a breath, she calmed down and gently caressed the side of Dean's face. "My point is… that I would rather have you as a complete mess rather than not have you at all."

"You really mean that?" Dean asked, letting himself be lost in Ziva's beautiful eyes.

"Of course," Ziva said, surprised that Dean really needed to ask.

Dean stood and moved so he was standing in front of the only woman he'd ever really loved, As he got down on one knee, he pulled a small jewelry box out of his pocket and opened it, revealing a simple gold and diamond ring.

Ziva was breathless as her eyes met Dean's. She was grateful that she was sitting down because otherwise she might have actually fainted.

"Ziva David," Dean said, his heart pounding more than it had ever done while on a hunt. "Will you marry me?"


	2. Everything Changes

AUTHOR'S NOTES: For the sake of those who have may have missed the season 7 premire, I'll refrain from going on about it. If you have seen it, feel free to drop a line. I will say this though: HOLY CRAP!

Okay, now that that's out of the way, I'll start on the story. I didn't like Samuel Campbell in the canon episodes. I thought he should have been nicer to Sam and Dean so that's what I've done.

I also did some research as far as Fiona's current pain managment. Remember, she's got a problem with some of the standard painkillers.

Next chapter will cover the episode 'The Third Man' and the return of Castiel.

* * *

><p><em>Everything Changes and Nothing Stays the Same<em>

* * *

><p>Celeste once again looked like she'd been worked over when she popped in on Dean as he was leaving the garage for the day. It looked like someone had roughed her up pretty well and she seemed to be limping slightly.<p>

"Hey, what happened?" Dean asked, going to Celeste and looking at the bruises forming on her face. He gently touched the healing split on her lip. "Hey," he said, gently, when she pulled away slightly. When the angel looked at him, he was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Celeste, what happened?"

"Family drama," Celeste muttered, pushing Dean's hand away. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Dean repeated, incredulous. "You look like someone's been using you as a punching bag. What's going on?" He went to his truck and lowered the tailgate. When Celeste sat down, Dean said, "Look, I can't help if you don't talk to me."

Celeste let out a deep sigh and nodded. "It was Raphael," she said, sounding embarrassed.

"Wait, the—the archangel, Raphael?" Dean said, frowning slightly. "But why would he-?"

"Because I got between him and Cas," Celeste explained. "Raphael wants to restart the Apocalypse and Cas and I are trying to stop him. Now, Castiel and I have more supporters than Raphael but he's got a vendetta against us and he's been… Well, I guess the word 'abusing' would fit nicely. He's trying make Cas surrender by beating the crap out of me."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that. But he could remember plenty of times when he was a kid when getting between his dad and Sam had resulted in getting a bit roughed up. "Can I help?" Dean asked although really, the last place he wanted to be was in the middle of a civil war in Heaven.

"No," Celeste replied, shaking her head. Besides, the fights were her own fault anyway. She's been provoking Raphael so that his focus would be on her, leaving Castiel free to try and rally forces for their side. "Thanks for asking, though."

When the angel winged out, Dean couldn't help feeling worried. He liked Celeste and she'd become a good friend the past year. His thoughts were interrupted, however, when his cell phone rang. "Yeah," he answered, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Need you at NCIS," Gibbs said, sounding slightly urgent.

"A case?" Dean guessed as he closed the truck's tailgate.

"Mossad Deputy Director David just called me," Gibbs replied. "He wants to talk to you in MTAC in an hour."

Dean checked his watch and sighed. "Okay. I'll be there." Closing his phone, he mentally groaned at he thought about the conversation to come. He knew that Ziva's father didn't like him for some unknown reason and the idea of talking to the man face to face didn't sound like a great way to spend the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>As Sam stood in the Walter Reed Rehabilitation Hospital later that afternoon, he watched as one of the physical therapists finished up with Fiona's exercises and helped her back into the wheelchair. Even after talking with Dean about what all had gone on over the past year—thankfully without the violence and screaming—Sam still couldn't understand why Fi would want to purposely stay paralyzed. It was a hard life even at the best of times.<p>

"What are you doing here?" Gabriel asked as he suddenly appeared next to Sam. He was snacking on a candy bar and in his shirt pocket was an oddly wrapped lollipop.

"Fiona had a physical therapy session," Sam replied, shrugging. He looked again at the lollipop and frowned at the wrapper. "Fentanyl?" Plucking the item from the archangel's pocket, Sam studied the sucker as he read the label. Looking at Gabriel, he asked, "What's this all about?"

"It's for Fiona," Gabriel replied, taking the sucker back and tucking it into his pocket again.

"Okay, but that is a _seriously_ potent painkiller," Sam said, quickly. How much pain was Fiona in on a regular basis if she was using Fentanyl?

"Look," Gabriel said, actually sounding annoyed for some reason. "Fiona can't take any of the usual painkillers because she doesn't react well to them, right?"

"Yeah, so?" Sam said, not sure where the archangel was going with the line of thought.

"So when the over-the-counter stuff stops working," Gabriel replied. "Fiona's gotta go with something else."

"I was wondering if you were going to show up, Gabe," Fiona said as she wheeled over to the two. Looking at Sam, she said, "Hey, do you mind of we stop at a pharmacy on the way home? I need to pick up some stuff."

"For you, milady," Gabriel said with a smile as he handed Fi the Fentanyl pop.

Fi took it quickly, glancing at Sam as she popped the sucker in her mouth, tucking it into her cheek. As she, Sam, and Gabriel headed out to Sam's car, Fiona could feel the questioning look from Sam. But she didn't say anything until they'd driven to a local Rite-Aid and pulled into a handicapped parking spot.

Wrapping up what was left of the sucker—what she liked to call a 'no pain pop'—Fi put the remainder aside for later. The stuff worked wonders and sucking on it for even just 5 minutes took care of most of the pain her body built up. It was something she'd learned when she'd first ended up paralyzed. Painkillers—even the ones that _didn't _turn her into Sleeping Beauty or a sex fiend—only took the edge off the pain in her back and shoulders and didn't even do anything for the odd muscle aches in her legs. There was some technical term for it, but she couldn't remember what it was.

"You boys going to be okay while I pop in?" Fiona asked, looking from Sam to Gabriel who was sitting in the backseat of the car.

"Please. It's me," Gabriel said with a grin as he snapped his fingers, instantly transporting Fiona outside the car where she now sat in her wheelchair in jeans and a loose-fitting long-sleeved top.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Fi muttered as she wheeled into the store.

"She's doing good," Sam observed, sounding a bit surprised.

"Yeah, well she could be doing better," Gabriel replied. "But she won't let Castiel or Celeste heal her."

"Why not?" Sam asked, confused. He'd thought about the issue for a while but whenever he tried to bring it up with Dean, his brother immediately changed the subject.

Unlike Ziva, Dean, or even Celeste, Gabriel hadn't been as receptive to Sam's return. It had taken him months to start getting Fiona to open up and stop being so closed off. And now it seemed like that work was being undone by Sam's sudden and inexplicable return.

"You want to know what Fiona's been through this past year?" Gabriel said, fighting the urge to do some serious trickster smiting on Sam Winchester. "Depression, physical pain, rehab. And that's just because she was paralyzed again. She hasn't dated because you're her soul mate. And she doesn't want to be healed because she doesn't seem to care anymore."

* * *

><p>NCIS's Multiple Threat Assessment Center was empty except for one man when Gibbs and Dean entered.<p>

Going down to the main floor, Dean felt his heart pounding. He'd been expecting a video conference with Eli David—not an in person conversation.

"So you are the man who has won my daughter's heart," Eli David said as he studied Dean. "I admit I am surprised."

Dean didn't say anything but he wondered if this was going to end with his body being found in a river somewhere… if at all.

Eli smiled and nodded slowly. "I never wanted Ziva to fall for someone like you. You are a fighter. I'd always hoped she would find a warm, caring man who could give her a life away from violence and death." He paused for a moment and his eyes narrowed slightly. "And then she told me about you. About what you and your brother really do."

"Everything?" Dean asked, surprised.

"I have run across a monster or two in my lifetime," Eli replied. He studied Dean for a long time before he spoke again. "I know you are a good man, Dean Winchester. And I know that you will take good care of my daughter."

"All due respect, sir?" Dean said, looking Ziva's father in the eye. "Ziva can take care of herself." Although as soon as he said it, he expected to find himself lying face down on the floor with a bullet in the back of his head.

Instead, the Mossad Deputy Director smiled, warmly. "I am aware of that. And I expect you will remember that as well if you should hurt her." He gave Dean a moment to take that in before clapping a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Welcome to the family."

* * *

><p>Fiona woke quickly from where she'd been napping on the porch swing when she heard the steps creak. She sat up a bit more as Samuel Campbell sat down on the wicker chair next to the swing. "So what brings you by?" she asked, curiously, as she stretched and rubbed her neck to relieve a knot there.<p>

"I was passing through," Samuel replied with a shrug. "Decided to check on my grandsons."

"You okay?" Fi asked, noticing the melancholy look on the older hunter's face.

Samuel shrugged again, not sure of what to say. He missed Deanna and Mary so much. And he wished he could have one more day with his family. But his wife and daughter were gone and all he had left of Mary was her two sons. "So how're you?" he asked, changing the subject. He was surprised when Fiona laughed. Frowning, he asked, "What's so funny?"

"Deflection and subject change are apparently Campbell traits," Fi replied. Moving from the porch swing to the wheelchair, she sighed. "I'm getting by. You know: good days and bad days."

Samuel studied Fiona for a moment before he said, "You know, you remind me of Mary."

"Really?" Fi said, sounding a little bit surprised.

Samuel nodded and leaned back in the wicker chair. "I knew Mary liked John Winchester. And I was always afraid that if they got together then some monster or something would come along and end up getting both of them killed."

A thought was starting to form in Fiona's mind and she asked, "Did you know my parents?"

"After getting out of the Marine Corps James Brendon settled in DC," Samuel replied, shaking his head. "Listen, I also came by to apologize."

But Fiona waved the apology off. "It doesn't matter, Samuel. I know to you it seems like an odd concept—a paralyzed active hunter—but it's just a fact of life for me, Dean, and Sam. We're used to it."

"You know Sam used to talk about you all the time," Samuel said, thinking on the past year. "Said you and the boys were close when you were kids."

"We were close," Fiona replied, thoughtfully. "Then we started growing apart. I left to join the Marines and when I got out things were different. There was this… wall between Dean and Sam. And Dean was treating me like little sister despite the fact that I've got four years on him."

Samuel thought about that for a while and as he mused over the past year. "Look, Fiona, I've got almost no family left other than Sam and Dean. I mean, a couple of distant cousins, maybe, but that's it." Realizing that he was getting off topic, he said, "The point is… Family's family. And you've got to hold on to what you have left because you never know when it's going to be gone."

"Hey," Sam said as he came out of the house and out onto the porch. Looking from Fiona to his grandfather, he said, "You mind giving us a minute?"

"No problem," Samuel replied, getting up and heading inside. It was getting late and he figured he'd at least be nice enough to throw something together for dinner. He wasn't the world's greatest cook, but he at least knew how to make a few things.

Back out on the porch, Sam took the chair Samuel had been sitting in and looked at Fiona. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Fiona looked on the defensive as she crossed her arms. "Tell you what? That I've been with Gabriel for more than 2 months now? He's been there for me, Sam. You weren't."

"Were you in this much pain before?" Sam asked, giving Fi a raised eyebrow. Although he made a mental note to ask about the archangel later.

Fiona relaxed slightly before uncrossing her arms. "Honestly… yes." Looking at her lower body, she sighed. "I can't feel my legs but the muscles just seem to ache all the time. That plus the pain in my back—muscle aches and the nerve pain… I tried taking the regular prescription stuff, but you know how I am on most of it. The stuff I could take just made me loopy and hazy."

"So what's with the lollipop thing?" Sam wanted to know. "Fentanyl? That's seriously potent stuff."

"And one of those suckers lasts me about a week," Fiona replied. "Sometimes when I'm in between doses of something else, I suck on one of those—I call them 'pain relief pops'—for about 10 minutes. Just long enough for the drugs to start knocking the pain back to tolerable levels." She found it touching that Sam was so concerned but at the same time, she was more than a bit annoyed. Sam had been gone for a year. He had no idea how much she'd been through and he knew nothing about the physical pain she had to live with every day.

"And Gabriel?" Sam asked, unable to keep the tone of jealousy out of his voice. It wasn't as if he wanted to know what the archangel had that he didn't. Rather, Sam wanted to find a way to get Fiona back for good since right now the only time everything felt right with him was when he was with her.

"Sam, you were gone," Fiona replied, her tone even. "For the longest time I felt so alone… even when I was with Dean or Gibbs. And Gabriel was always there when I needed him. I wouldn't even really call it dating. We just… connect every now and then."

Sam wasn't quite sure what to say to that. Thankfully, he was spared from a response by the sudden appearance of Celeste who looked even worse than ever. She practically collapsed onto the porch swing and looked at Sam and Fiona who both stared at her with equal parts horror and concern. "Mind if I stay here a few days?"

* * *

><p>As Ziva David prepared to leave for the day, she watched Gibbs as he continued to work at his desk. "You are not going home?" she asked, curiously.<p>

Gibbs looked up at Ziva and gave her a smile. "Just finishing up a few things," he replied. "Did you talk to your father?"

"I did," Ziva confirmed as she started for the elevators. But as she passed Gibbs' desk, she felt the amulet she wore around her neck—the amulet Dean had given her more than a year ago—get hot. She felt Gibbs watching her and when she met his eyes, she stopped. There was something old and at the same time ageless in his piercing blue gaze. Pushing it aside for a moment, she sighed. "He told me that he spoke to Dean and that he approved my engagement."

Gibbs didn't say anything as he watched Ziva. Inside, he could feel God's deep rumbling laugh of delight as He sensed the presence of the amulet. It had been a small trinket He'd carved ages ago—a gift for His favorite daughter. "I'm happy for you two, Ziva," Gibbs said with a warm smile. When Ziva went to the elevators, he leaned back in his chair, smiling. He knew that Ziva knew who he was, whether she realized it or not. He just hoped that she wouldn't tell DiNozzo.

* * *

><p><em>Earlier that day in Heaven...<em>

Celeste tried to catch her breath as she lay on her back on the floor of Ken Lay's study. The location happened to be Raphael's borrowed Heaven and currently the archangel was standing over her, an angelic blade in his hand. "I warned you, Celeste," Raphael said, calmly. "And still you chose to interfere."

"Go ahead," Celete groaned as she managed to get to her feet. "Kill me. Because the second you do, God is going to smite your ass six ways from Sunday." She quickly summoned her own blade and even though she was beat and sore, she managed to deflect most of the lethal blows, even though Raphael's blade cut her more than a few times.

"If you surrender," the archangel said, pausing a moment. "I will spare you. You'll be forbidden from returning to Earth, but you'll be alive."

Celeste lowered her blade, breathing heavily. She stretched out her grace, searching frantically for any safe haven on Earth. Finally finding one, she shook her head. "Never gonna happen, Raphael. You'll have to kill me first." But before the archangel could do just that, she winged out and away from Heaven.


	3. The Third Man

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Aside from the regular SPN characters—Sam, Dean, Bobby—Balthazar is one of my favorites. I like watching him and I love writing him.

Also, in this chapter, SoulessSam rears his head.

* * *

><p><em>The Third Man<em>

* * *

><p>The sun had barely risen as Sam entered the townhouse and headed for Fiona's bedroom. He'd hoped that someone would be awake by now, but apparently that wasn't happening.<p>

Fiona was lying on her back, still snoring lightly when Sam sat down on the bed beside her. Even through Fi's tank top, he could feel the muscle knots in her back. Gently lifting the back of the shirt, Sam slowly started massaging Fiona's back with practiced movements. After a moment, he smiled when he heard her groan in both pain and relief. "Don't stop," she muttered, crossing her arms in front of her and resting her head on them.

"Don't plan on it," Sam replied with a smile as he dug deeper into Fi's back as he felt the knots deep in the muscle around her spine. When the knots began to loosen, he asked, "So how is Gabriel at this?"

Fiona could hear the jealousy in Sam's voice and shrugged. "Not as good as you," she admitted.

Helping Fiona turn over and sit up, Sam asked, "How long are you going to stay mad at me?"

Fiona didn't reply as she lifted herself into her wheelchair and headed out of the bedroom and across the hall to her bathroom. She wanted to be angry with Sam for hiding and not telling her he was alive. But she also wanted to lie in his arms again as they fell asleep. The previous day she'd decided that until she figured out what she really wanted, she needed to keep Sam at arm's length. Besides… something seemed off about him lately.

xx

In the kitchen, Sam and Fiona joined Dean and Ziva for breakfast but as they started to eat, they were startled by the sudden appearance of Castiel.

"Cas, what the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked, quickly standing.

"Celeste. Where is she?" Castiel asked, quickly.

"No idea," Sam replied, frowning. "She disappeared a few days ago. We haven't seen her since."

"No one has," Castiel said, partly to himself as he paced the dining room. Stopping and looking at the others, he sighed. "We have to find her. I need your help."

"Okay," Sam replied, not sure of what the big deal was. "But Celeste can take care of herself, right?"

Castiel's expression took on a look of extreme annoyance as he said, "Sam, Dean… my "people skills" are "rusty". Right now Celeste may be the only one standing between two armies of angels who would like nothing more than to kill each other before restarting the apocalypse."

"We know about Raphael," Dean piped up. "Celeste told us what's been going on."

Seeing that Cas was about to go on another rant, Fiona asked, "Is there any way to track where she might have gone?"

"No," Cas replied, sadly. "I've tried, but she's completely hidden from me."

Thinking as an investigator, Ziva asked, "Do you know anyone else Celeste might have turned to for help?"

Castiel was pacing frantically and he sounded impatient as he replied, "No."

"Think," Ziva pressed as she stood and went over to the angel, stopping him mid-pace. "There must be someone she trusts other than you or Gabriel."

The angel frowned, but he stopped and thought. Who might be shielding Celeste? With the war in Heaven, it was hard to find true allies. Even the angels who claimed to side with Cas and Celeste couldn't exactly be trusted implicitly.

But there might be someone… "There is one other angel that Celeste trusted more than me," Castiel said, finally. "But the problem will be finding him."

"Okay, then," Dean said, thinking. "Ziva, you and Cas go to NCIS and see if you can track down where Celeste might be. Fi—"

"Uh, I've got that doctor's appointment," Fiona cut it. "Later today."

Dean sighed wearily as he rubbed his face with one hand. He'd promised Fiona he'd take her but now it looked like he was needed to help find the missing angel. "Uh, Sam, do you mind, uh…?"

"Sure," Sam nodded, looking at Fiona. "No problem."

* * *

><p><em>7 Months Ago<em>

By the time Fiona had finished getting ready for her PT session that morning, the pain in her back had moved from excruciating to unbearable. And the pain was spreading through her whole body.

"Fi!" Dean said in alarm as he entered Fiona's room and saw the anguished look on her face. He hurried over to her but when he tried to help her back into bed, Fi cried out in pain. Dean stopped and got her settled back in the wheelchair, his mind racing as he tried to think of what to do. After a while, he dashed upstairs to his own bathroom and came back down with a bottle of Vicodin. After the briefest of hesitations, he tossed it to Fiona who managed to give him an incredulous look.

"Dean," Fiona said, feeling angry that she was actually crying. She hurt so much… Finally, she opened the pill bottle and shook out two pills, swallowing them dry.

The minutes ticked by slowly as Dean sat on Fiona's bed, watching her like a hawk for any sign that the painkillers were starting to kick in. When Fiona finally took a slow, deep breath, he relaxed, even though he knew what this would mean later.

xxxxxxxxx

Gabriel wasn't quite sure why Dean had warned him not to go into Fiona's room while she was recovering from the severe pain she'd been in earlier. But deciding that a quick check wouldn't hurt, the angel opened the bedroom door and stepped inside.

"Gabriel!" Fiona said, looking surprised as she lay on her bed reading. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought you'd want some company," Gabriel replied with a smile as he sat on the bed next to Fi. But he was surprised when Fiona suddenly grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked him towards her before crushing her mouth against his. "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Gabriel said quickly, pulling away before fixing Fiona with a curious look. "Are you okay?"

"Gabriel, do me a favor," Fi said as she hastily pulled her t-shirt off. "Just shut up."

As their bodies intertwined, Gabriel found himself adding 'sex with Fiona' to his list of most interesting experiences. Fi was fairly frisky for someone paralyzed from the waist down and as he ran his fingers through her hair, Gabriel found himself wondering if he was making a mistake.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

Over the past year, Sam had somehow still managed to maintain his ability to charm information out of people. If anything, he was even better at it these days because he didn't have his conscience screaming at him while he coaxed police, doctors, and nurses into giving him information that would ordinarily be off limits to civilians.

So while Fiona went into one of the exam rooms for her appointment, Sam went to the cute nurse at the counter and ramped the charm up to 16 as he tried to talk the girl into giving him a copy of Fiona's medical records.

The nurse was hesitant to hand over the files and it wasn't until Sam showed her the Claddaugh ring he still wore and claimed that he and Fi were still waiting on an out of state marriage license that the young woman reluctantly made a digital copy of Fiona's medical records.

"I'm not going to get into trouble for this, am I?" the girl asked, frowning slightly.

Sam pulled his wallet and withdrew a business card. Handing it over to the young nurse, he said, "If anyone asks, just tell them it'd for a federal case."

"Right," the nurse replied, nodding as she pocketed the card.

* * *

><p>At NCIS, Castiel watched as Ziva printed out copies of missing persons reports. He wished he knew some way of helping the NCIS agent find Celeste andor Balthazar, but the simple fact was that once angels went underground, it was very hard to find them again.

Thus the reason why Ziva was looking for possible angelic vessels.

"Here are all the missing persons in the country," Ziva said, handing the angel the enormous stack of papers. "Do any of them seem like viable possibilities?"

Cas sat down at an empty desk and studied each face intently, considering each individual as a possibility. Many angels had the ability to recognize other angelic vessels, but knowing which vessel was meant for which angel was far more daunting. After an hour, though, he was able to narrow the stack down to 4 possibles for Balthazar and one missing woman whom he knew to be Celeste's current vessel.

While McGee ran down the 4 missing men, Ziva started working on tracking Celeste—or rather the woman Celeste was using as a vessel.

Blythe Richards was reported missing by her sister 3 years ago after failing to show up for a weekly lunch. According to the interview with the sister, Blythe had been seriously ill for nearly a year prior to her disappearance but suddenly recovered without any explanation. Shortly afterwards, she had vanished without a trace.

"Don't know about you, Ziva," Tony said as he eyed his partner and what she was working on. "But I miss the good old days when we'd just be working on normal stuff when Gibbs came in saying—"

"Grab your gear," Gibbs said at the same time Tony said the same words. Grabbing his badge and gun, he turned to look at his team who were getting their gear together. "Got a dead naval officer in an abandoned warehouse in Manassas."

Ziva was reluctant to leave the search alone, but she knew that her job couldn't take a backseat. Closing down the search she'd been running, she quickly followed the rest of the team onto the elevator.

* * *

><p>Dean was PISSED!<p>

It was bad enough that Sam had concealed being back. But now Sam had crossed a line.

"You _stole_ Fi's medical records?" Dean shouted, angrily, as he stared at his brother in total disbelief.

"I asked the nurse to make me a copy," Sam corrected, looking slightly perplexed. "Dude, what's the big deal? We've done crap like this loads of times."

Dean shook his head, not believing what he was hearing. "Not when it's family! Okay? You don't invade the personal privacy of your _family_!

Sam gave his older brother a wry smile and cocked his head to the side a bit as he said, "And, uh… What about when you went through my bag after Lucifer got topside?"

Dean was fuming and he didn't say anything because he knew that Sam had a point. And at the same time, he felt suddenly worried. Sam's actions were extremely out of character. "Dude, what's going on with you? And don't tell me 'nothing'. _Something_ is going on with you. I mean, it's like you don't even have a conscience anymore."

Sam considered that for a moment and finally shrugged. "I don't know, Dean. Honestly, it's like all the stuff I used to worry about doesn't bother me anymore." After a moment, he frowned slightly. "How'd you find out about Fiona's records anyway?"

Dean glared at his brother as he replied, "Bobby called me after he got a call from the doctor's office." Rubbing his face with one hand, he sighed, wearily. "Look, why didn't you just talk to Fi if you wanted to know what's going on?"

"Because she won't talk to me," Sam snapped. "And you're not exactly Mr. Chatty yourself." Sitting down at his computer, he flipped his laptop open and opened Fiona's files.

Watching how calmly Sam was reading, Dean scoffed. "You really don't feel even the slightest bit guilty about this, do you?"

Looking up at Dean, Sam shrugged again. "No, not really."

Dean felt his temper rising and finally snapping, he stormed over to Sam's lap top and slammed it closed before sitting down and facing his brother. "You want to talk? Fine, let's talk." But when Sam remained silent, Dean gave a derisive snort. "You don't even really care, do you?"

"Look, Fiona's using painkillers that are 10 times stronger than anything we've ever taken in our whole lives," Sam said, purposely dodging the question. "And I saw in her records that she was put on anti-depressants."

"That she's never taken because she doesn't need them!" Dean snapped, angrily. "A month after you fell into the cage, the first doctor Fi went to diagnosed her with severe depression. Put her on drugs and didn't even listen when she told him she had a problem with the painkillers he prescribed."

"So then what happened?" Sam asked, curious.

Dean sighed and rested his arms on the table. "About 7 months ago, Fiona had a really bad day. I mean, bad enough that she didn't even argue when I gave her a couple Vicodin."

Sam was more than a bit surprised at that. Usually Fiona resisted taking that stuff at all costs since it made her extremely whacky. "Seriously?" he asked, wondering if perhaps Dean was exaggerating.

Dean nodded, his expression somber. "She tried talking to her doctors again, but they still wouldn't listen, so she changed doctors and Dr. Laura McElroy is the one who prescribed the Fentanyl lollipops. She said that if Fi wasn't going to take the usual meds, then she'd have to use the other stuff."

Sam nodded in understanding but he still didn't understand why Fi hadn't just explained this. Had she not wanted to admit how much pain she was really in? But thinking about how Gabriel had seemed to know when Fiona was seriously hurting, Sam wondered if Fiona hadn't confided in him because she'd replaced him with the archangel.

* * *

><p>Back at NCIS, Castiel had taken over searching for Balthazar. While Ziva and the others dealt with their case, the angel was doing his best to track down his brother angel.<p>

So far, his best lead was the secluded estate of a retired actor named Sebastian Roche.

Winging to the estate, Castiel frowned when he sensed the Enochian warding magic all over the house. He would not be able to enter unless someone broke the sigils.

"What the devil are you doing here?"

Cas whirled around, swiftly summoning his blade and raising it in a defensive manner only to lower it when he saw Balthazar standing there. "Balthazar," Cas said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I need your help."

"_My_ help?" Balthazar said with an icy tone in his voice. "How about—instead of relying on everyone else to help you—_you_ _get off your arse_ and _try helping others_!"

Castiel frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Reining in his anger, Balthazar glared at his brother as he said, "Three days ago, Celeste shows up on my doorstep, beat all to hell and barely conscious. She told me she'd been running interference between you and Raphael and she needed a safe place to stay."

Castiel was surprised to hear that. He hadn't known about how badly Celeste was being hurt. "I didn't know," he insisted. "I didn't ask for her to—"

"Oh, I know you didn't ask," Balthazar replied, cutting Cas off. "Because if you had, I would have killed you the moment you set foot on my lawn." With a snap of his fingers, he transported the two of them inside where Celeste was waiting in an elegant sitting room. "Now," the other angel said as he went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. "I think we need to have a long talk about what we're going to do about Raphael. Don't you agree, Cas?"

xx

A few hours later, four angels sat at the long table in the dining room opposite Sam, Dean, Fiona, and Ziva. After a magnificent feast conjured by Gabriel, the hunters and angels exchanged looks.

"Raphael is pissed off royally," Celeste explained. "And he'll stop at nothing to get his way and restart the apocalypse."

"So what do we do about it?" Dean asked, sipping his glass of scotch. "I mean, what about God?"

"God is somewhere on Earth," Celeste reported. "Other than that… who knows? I've been trying to find him, but he doesn't want to be found."

"So how do we fight an archangel?" Dean asked, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

But instead of answering, Celeste turned to Balthazar with an expectant look and nodded in his direction. "Ask the Heavenly Hoarder."

Sam, Dean, and Fiona all snorted with laughter. "The 'Heavenly Hoarder'?" Dean said, looking at Balthazar.

"I may have… appropriated a few select items from Heaven's armory," Balthazar said, surreptitiously. "Just as an insurance policy, of course."

"Wait, what kinds of weapons are we talking about?" Sam asked, not liking the idea of angelic weapons being missing.

"Well, the Staff of Moses is one… There's a sword that's supposed to be able to kill God himself… and a handy little crystal thing that can turn anyone into solid rock salt…" Balthazar looked pensive for a moment and finally shrugged. "Honestly, I've forgotten what all else there was. I really should make a list."

Dean was flabbergasted as he looked from the kleptomaniac angel to Celeste. "_This_ is the guy you felt safest with?"

When the power suddenly went out, the angels and hunters all looked apprehensive as they exchanged looks. "Oh, goody…" Celeste said, sarcastically. "Raphael's here."

Standing up, Balthazar seemed oddly calm as he pointed to Gabriel. "Gabe, if you would be so kind as to escort the ladies somewhere safe?"

"You got it, bro," Gabriel replied, raising a hand and snapping his fingers, transporting himself, Ziva, Fiona, and Celeste out of the estate and to the safest place he could think of.

"So what now?" Dean asked as he, Sam, and Castiel stood as well.

The other angel smiled, looking almost amused. "Now we evict a couple of home invaders."

* * *

><p>While Ziva worked in Gibbs' kitchen—making dessert and coffee for herself and the others—Celeste and Fiona sat at the dining room table.<p>

Downstairs in the basement, Gabriel watched Gibbs—aka: God—as he worked on the boat frame filling most of the room on the floor. "So what's the deal with the boat?"

Gibbs/God didn't answer as he finished sanding the side he was working on. When he finished, he turned to the archangel and said, "So Balthazar stole weapons from Heaven and Raphael wants to restart the apocalypse."

"And you're just hanging around down here, playing with the stupid boat," Gabriel snapped, irritably.

"What do you want me to do?" God asked without any anger in His voice. "I've tried everything, but you all insist on fighting about one thing or another. Why do you think I created Celeste?"

Gabriel sighed, knowing that God had an incredibly valid point. "Look, I know we're all a handful. And trust me, I wouldn't be asking for help if I thought we could deal with this alone."

God nodded, thinking. "Alright. You can ask for _one_ favor."

The archangel wasn't sure about how to respond to that and considering he didn't want to waste his one favor, he decided to hold off on the request for the moment.

* * *

><p>AN: Next chapter will be just something a bit fun and will focus on the Ladies of SPN! Have a couple questions, though. If I pair Jo with someone from the NCIS team should it be Jimmy Palmer, Tim McGee, or Tony DiNozzo?

Also-There's a thought I've had since I started this series which is that I wanted to do a crossover with this story and the TV show 'Las Vegas'. Would that be too much of a stretch or is that something you'd like to see?

Please remember to read, review, and show your love!


	4. This One's For the Girls

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So I have to apologize for taking my time with this chapter. Real Life kept interrupting...and then I found the biggest distraction ever. If you want to laugh harder than you ever have in your life, go onto YouTube and search for 'Nostalgia Critic'. Just check it out once. I promise you won't be dissappointed.

Okay-the story! Next chapter will cover 'Weekend at Bobby's' and will-of course-feature Crowley who is starting to realize that he should just stay the Hell away from this particular group of hunters.

The title for this chapter comes from the song by Martina McBride with the same title.

Chapter 4

* * *

><p><em>This One's For the Girls<em>

* * *

><p>Ellen had never really talked to her daughter, Jo, about her marriage to Bill. Especially when it came to questions about the wedding. In truth, Ellen had been 6 months pregnant with Jo when she'd gotten married. It had been a real, old-fashioned, shotgun wedding and Ellen had always felt she'd gotten the short end of the stick.<p>

Maybe that was why Ellen wanted something better for Dean and Ziva. The couple had been through plenty in their lives and both deserved a day of happiness.

With that thought in mind—plus she wanted to check on how the others were doing in general—Ellen and Jo headed down to Washington, DC.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Growing up in Texas and Arizona when she was a little girl, Ellen was used to hot summer weather. But the humidity of Virginia was even worse. It seemed to actually cling to your skin and made it impossible to cool off.

Thankfully, Fiona had the air conditioning going full blast in the townhouse when the two ladies arrived.

"Hey," Fiona said as she came into the hallway from the bedroom. "I thought you guys wouldn't get here till later."

"I drove," Jo replied with a smile as she put her bag on the sofa in the living room.

Looking around the lower level of the townhouse, Ellen asked, "So how come you haven't moved somewhere more…?" She tried to think of a tactful phrasing but drew a blank.

"Somewhere more wheelchair accessible?" Fi finished, leading the two ladies into the kitchen. After a moment, she shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just too comfortable to move. Besides, with Dean and Ziva living upstairs, this is sort of like two apartments in one, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Ellen murmured, not entirely convinced by Fi's attempting-to-be-upbeat mood. "So… How are you doing with everything? You know—with Sam bein' back and all?"

Fiona went to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a half full bottle of bourbon and poured herself a glass. "I'm fine, Ellen."

Ellen knew full well that 'I'm fine' was Winchester for 'I'm anything but fine but I'm not telling you that' but let the matter slide for the moment. "Okay. Listen, Jo and I caught wind of a case on the way down. Something about a couple mutilated bodies?"

Fiona nodded and set her drink down before wheeling out to the living room. She came back with a couple files on her lap. She tossed them on the table and picked up her glass again, tossing back the amber liquid before refilling the glass. "3 bodies ripped apart—hearts are intact so it's not a werewolf. One of the dead guys was a Marine so NCIS snatched up the case. Dean and Sam are working it with Gibbs and I'm on research."

The older woman paused a moment before turning to her daughter. "Jo, why don't you go over to NCIS and see if Sam and Dean have anything new?"

"Let me just change clothes," Jo replied, grabbing her bag and heading into the bathroom. She knew full well that her mom wanted to talk to Fiona alone and decided to just go along with it. Besides… she hadn't seen the Winchester boys for a while and actually kinda missed them.

* * *

><p>At NCIS, Jo bluffed her way through security claiming to be a new agent whose badge hadn't been issued yet. It didn't take much work and when she entered the squad room of the Major Crimes Division, she looked around for Sam and Dean.<p>

"Can I help you?" asked one of the agents. He was kind of cute in that geeky sort of way. Jo felt a pang of sadness as she realized that the guy reminded her of Ash.

"I'm looking for…" Jo did some quick thinking and continued, "…Special Agent David."

The agent smiled and stood up. "She's down with our forensic scientist," he said, eagerly. "I'll take you down there."

"No need to, Probie," Tony DiNozzo said, coming up behind Jo and putting a hand on her shoulder as he smiled. "I'll escort the lovely young Probette."

As he led her to the elevators, Tony's hand was gentle yet firm and Jo remembered the way Dean had tried to kick her off of her first case 5 years ago. Once they were in the elevator and heading down, Jo frowned and crossed her arms defensively when Tony stopped the elevator. "What're you doing here?" Tony asked once he and Jo were facing each other.

"Thought you could use an extra pair of hands on the case," Jo replied, flatly, giving the federal agent a shrug.

"Did you, now?" Tony said with an indulgent smile. "Well, we don't. But thanks for dropping in. Don't let the door hit you on the way out." But before Tony could flick the elevator power back on, Jo had swiftly stepped in between him and the control panel.

"I'm not going anywhere, Tony," Jo insisted, stubbornly, as she crossed her arms across her chest. "So you're just going to have to put up with me."

Tony didn't say anything for a moment. He couldn't help flashing back to helping get Jo to the hospital in Missouri after she'd been ripped into by hellhounds. "I don't want you to get hurt," he admitted.

Jo let out a long sigh, relaxing her ridged posture slightly. "I know. Okay? I mean, the only reason my mom's still letting me hunt with her is because she knows that I'd just go off on my own again. But you, Dean, Sam… I'm alive, okay? Yes, I almost died but the keyword is 'almost'. I'm still kicking, okay?"

Tony took a step back and after a moment he gave the young hunter a smile. "Been practicing that for a while, have you?"

Jo gave a slightly embarrassed shrug as she nodded and stepped away from the elevator control panel. "What do you think?"

Tony started the elevator back up again and as he stood next to Jo, he said, "As your friend… I say 'okay'."

Jo nodded, happy that at least Tony was agreeing to stop treating her like a kid. "My mom's still not going to stop treating me like her little girl, is she?"

The NCIS agent shook his head. "Never, Probette."

x

In Abby's lab, the forensic scientist was giving Sam a rundown on the crime scene photos when Tony and Jo came into the room. Tony looked around and frowned slightly as noticed that Ziva and Dean were conspicuously absent. "Abbs, where are…?"

But Abby quickly cut Tony off. "I know, right? I mean, we're in the middle of the case and suddenly Dean grabs Ziva and they disappear! I know they're engaged and all, but they need to—to stop having sex all over the building."

Tony frowned and even though he tried to pretend he hadn't heard what Abby said, he knew that the imagery would be fixed in his mind for all eternity. "Too much information, Abby," he said, still trying to scour his brain.

"You think _that_ was too much information?" Abby said with a derisive snort as she went to her computers and brought up the footage of Interrogation Room 2 from a few weeks ago. "Take a look at this."

Almost instantly, Tony put his hand over Jo's eyes but the girl pushed it away. "Wow," was all he could say as he watched the video. "I didn't even know that was physically possible."

"I didn't even think that was legal," Jo said, wishing she hadn't looked.

Sam watched for another moment until Abby turned the video off. "How long has this been going on?" he wanted to know.

"Almost 8 months," Abby replied. "And Director Vance hasn't said anything, but if he doesn't know by now what's going on then he'd got his head buried in the sand up to his ankles." Frowning at Tony who had his eyes half-closed like he was thinking of something, Abby asked, "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Tony said, quickly, bringing himself out of his reverie. "I was just enjoying the image of Vance buried out in the desert somewhere… only his feet exposed. Maybe even coyotes gnawing on him…" Looking at the others, he looked a little sheepish. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Um, can we get back to the case with the ripped apart bodies?" Jo asked, hopefully. "Cause I found that to be way less disturbing."

"God, yes!" Abby exclaimed, as she deleted the video of Dean and Ziva in the Interrogation Room. After a moment, though, she frowned. "You know how much money I could have made selling that video online?"

xxxxx

Ziva double checked her reflection in the ladies' room, making sure her hair and clothes looked okay. She didn't know why she was having so much trouble staying away from Dean. Or why she felt so lighthearted and…well… giddy. It felt like finally her life was all coming together. She had friends and family—sure, they weren't her blood, but that was of little importance—she was engaged to be married to a wonderful man… Life was actually good for once.

And, yes, there were still supernatural dangers looming—not to mention the more mundane issues like Fiona still being paralyzed and Sam's sudden return. But Ziva wasn't about to let that ruin her moment of happiness—no matter how brief it may be.

Exiting the bathroom, Ziva stopped dead when she saw Gibbs waiting for her. He didn't look upset or anything but the look in his eyes made it clear that the two of them were about to have a talk.

x

Once in the conference room, Gibbs closed the door and waited until Ziva sat down before sitting opposite her at one end of the table. "What's going on, Ziva?" Gibbs asked, giving her a look that was equal parts curiosity and concern.

Ziva was quiet for a moment as she thought about what to say. "It won't happen again, Gibbs," she assured the senior agent.

But Gibbs just shook his head. "I know, Ziva. I remember what it felt like to be in love."

After a long silence, Ziva looked at the man who—for the past 6 years—had been her friend, mentor, and surrogate father. "I'm scared, Gibbs," she finally admitted. Leaning forward and resting her arms on the table, she let out a long sigh. "I… I do not get to be truly happy. Something always happens. Someone dies, or… I don't know what's going to happen… But I know that something will."

Gibbs took Ziva's hands in his and gave her a warm smile. "Ziva, no one ever knows what will happen. Part of life is just going along for the ride."

Ziva nodded, knowing that Gibbs was right. Meeting his gaze, she repeated, "I promise—Dean and I won't—"

But Gibbs cut her off. "It's okay, Ziva. I understand."

* * *

><p>Back at the townhouse, Ellen was only a little surprised when Gabriel popped in as she was making her 'famous' turkey chili. Okay, so maybe it wasn't really famous, but it was seriously good and even Bobby put it on par with regular beef chilis. "Can I help you with somethin'?" Ellen asked as she checked that the onions were cooked enough to add the small pile of minced garlic and peppers waiting on the cutting board next to the stove.<p>

"What?" Gabriel said, taking a step back and putting on his best innocent face. "An archangel can't just pop in on a beautiful woman once in a while?" But when he saw the hunter wasn't going for the line, he rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay—you got me. I came to see Fiona. Happy?"

Turning to give the angel her full attention, Ellen asked, "So just what are you doing with Fiona?"

"Excuse me?" Gabriel asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ellen leaned against the counter and crossed her arms as she said, "Look, I know Fiona's been through a lot. And I know that without Sam she needed someone to turn to. But unless you're really going to be there for Fiona, don't toy with her."

The angel looked a bit surprised at that. "What do you think I've been doing this past year? I mean—don't get me wrong, I like the guy—But Dean hasn't really been there for Fiona lately. And yeah, I know, he thought Sam was in the cage. But still… Fiona needed someone to comfort her and between me and G—Gibbs, I think we've got it covered." Gabriel hoped that Ellen wouldn't pick up of the near slip of the tongue.

"Okay," Ellen replied, nodding. "But if you hurt her…"

"Trust me," Gabriel said, honestly. "If I hurt Fiona, I'll have more than you to worry about." Although as he thought about it, between Gibbs and God… the archangel would rather take a chance on God's wrath.

xxxxx

When Dean and Ziva got home they were greeted by a spicy and intoxicating aroma. The scents of turkey and tomatoes mingling with cumin, peppers and garlic made the couple's mouth water as they headed into the dining room where Fiona and Jo were already at the table, laughing about something.

"That smells incredible," Ziva said as she joined the others at the table. But just as she'd spoken, Ellen came in with a plate of homemade biscuits.

"Go ahead and dig in, guys," Ellen said with a smile as she set the biscuits down. "I'm dishing up the chili right now." Glancing at the others and specifically Dean, she asked, "Where's Sam?"

"Oh, he's helping Gibbs with some case," Dean said quickly, as he grabbed one of the biscuits and pulled it apart before taking a bite. He closed his eyes and allowed himself a small sigh of pleasure. The biscuit was tender and buttery and there was the dual tang of buttermilk and sharp cheddar cheese.

"He doesn't know what he's missing," Jo said as she, too, grabbed a biscuit and started to eat. "Mom's been playing with recipes for the past couple months."

"How come?" Ziva wanted to know as Ellen brought out bowls of turkey chili garnished with crumbled bacon, shredded cheddar cheese, and sour cream.

"Because otherwise Bobby just lives off of diner food and take-out," Ellen replied with a smile as she sat down as well.

Fiona dug into the chili and reveled in the way the spice seemed to warm her from the inside. Raising her beer bottle, she smiled. "To Ellen for a great home-cooked meal."

The others toasted as well and as they ate, they talked about old hunts and about Dean and Ziva's upcoming wedding.

Ziva wanted a simple ceremony and Dean agreed. Neither really wanted some flashy event attended by people they didn't even know. A small gathering of their closest friends and family was just perfect.

x

After dinner, while Ziva and Jo cleaned up the kitchen talking about the benefits of knives versus guns in a fight, Dean and Fiona went out to the back porch to talk.

Sitting outside in the cooling evening, Dean sipped from his bottle of beer while Fiona nursed a glass of bourbon. "So what's going on with you and Gabriel?" Dean asked after a while.

Fiona smiled as she thought of the archangel and gave an honest shrug. "I don't know. I just know that he makes me smile. And he's trying to help."

Dean stared at his beer bottle for a moment and finally said, "I'm sorry if I've been kinda distant lately."

"We both have," Fi replied by means of an 'apology accepted'. Thinking of the past year, she added, "I spent so long missing Sam, but… Maybe I should have been looking at what I had. I've got you, Gibbs… Gabriel."

"Yeah, things are different now for sure," Dean agreed. Looking at his best friend, he asked, "So what are you going to do about Gabriel and Sam?"

Fiona laughed as she set her glass down on the table nearby. "I don't know! I keep wanting to just tell them to duke it out, but… I love Sam. I always have and I always will." Looking at Dean, she shrugged again. "But I love Gabriel, too."


	5. Weekend at Bobby's

AUTHOR'S NOTES: As always, I get a kick out of writing Crowley who has maybe a just the tiniest smidgeon of a conscience in this chapter.

Also—for the sake of my own amusement—I also put in SoullessSam getting his ass kicked by Fiona.

I also put in more than a few scenes with Bobby and Jo to kinda give the two a little bonding.

One more thing-if anyone wants my recipies for key lime pie, s'more pie, or my caramel apple layer cake which are mentioned in this chapter, all you have to do is ask.

Enjoy, y'all!

And please remember that reviews equal love!

* * *

><p><em>Weekend At Bobby's<em>

* * *

><p><em>1 Year Ago<em>

Bobby waited until Ellen and Jo had left to take care of a ghost problem before summoning Crowley. In the event that something bad happened, Bobby hadn't wanted his new wife to be around.

"So where's Mama Bear and Baby Bear?" Crowley asked as he leaned against the doorframe of the living room.

"Haunting out in Colorado," Bobby replied, flatly. Holding up the bottle of cheap whiskey sitting on his desk, he added, "Drink?"

"No," Crowley replied, appalled that the hunter actually thought he was being sociable by offering that swill.

"So we just saved the world together and you're too good to have a drink with me?" Bobby replied, frowning at the King of the Crossroads.

"Obviously," Crowley retorted. "I doubt that you have my brand."

"What's your poison, your highness?" Bobby asked, really getting impatient with the demon who was slamming his liquor selection.

"Craig," Crowley replied, simply. "Aged 30 years at least. Been drinking it since grade school."

Bobby picked up the glass of whiskey he'd poured himself and looked unimpressed as he said, "Well, I've got old rotgut. Aged 6 days." He took a drink and shrugged, pointing to the kitchen. "Course, if you're lucky, Fiona might have left a bottle of bourbon in the cabinet."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and went into the kitchen. After a moment, he came back into the room holding a bottle. Holding it up, he read off the label, "True Kentucky bourbon whiskey aged 18 years." Looking at Bobby, he seemed surprised. "Still almost full, too."

"Little strong for my taste," Bobby said as an explanation why he hadn't been drinking the better quality booze.

Finding a clean glass, Crowley poured a dribble of the bourbon in it and swirled it a moment before tasting it. "You know, for a hunter and a Marine, she's got fairly good taste." He poured himself more of the liquor and set the bottle down before facing the grizzled hunter. "So I take it you didn't just call me to talk the finer points of drinking."

"We had a deal," Bobby reminded the demon. "We lock Lucifer up and you rip up the lease on my soul."

"Yes, but that was before Heaven got itself all worked up into a tizzy," Crowley said, sounding a bit annoyed. "Don't worry. You've still got more than 9 years before you have to worry. I'm sure this mess will all be over by then." Setting his drink down on top of the TV, he smirked and vanished before Bobby could say anything else.

Looking at where the demon had been standing—just outside the Devil's Trap drawn in ultraviolet paint—Bobby glared at the empty room. "Balls!" he grumbled as he mentally went back to the drawing board.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

Kenosha, Wisconsin was one of those towns where nothing strange or out of the ordinary happened.

Until people started turning up dead with their chests ripped open.

During one of her weekly visits with Ducky back in DC, the medical examiner had explained that the local coroner had been completely baffled, especially when the coroner had extracted some sort of claw from the latest body.

And so Dean, Sam, and Fiona had packed up and driven north to Wisconsin to check out the case.

* * *

><p><em>Sioux Falls, SD <em>

As Bobby worked outside on one of the cars he was fixing, he caught the occasional whiff of apples and cinnamon mingling with the smells of motor oil, metal, and dirt. Looking back in the direction of the house, he wondered what fabulous concoction Jo was baking this time.

While Ellen had taken up cooking when she was home—trying to get Bobby to eat healthier than the usual take-out crap—Jo liked to bake up a storm.

There was already a heavenly key lime pie in the fridge, complete with a homemade graham cracker brown sugar crust. And then there had been the s'more pie a couple weeks ago…

"Hey, Bobby!" The older hunter looked up as Jo limped out of the house holding the cordless phone. "Dean's on the phone."

Bobby nodded, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands before heading to the porch.

Jo had gone back inside and was now lying on the living room couch, her right ankle wrapped and propped up on one of the old pillows. She held out the phone and watched Bobby answer it before grabbing her book off of the floor.

Two days ago, Jo had been out for a morning run when she'd caught her foot on the curb and sprained her ankle. Thankfully, the Sioux Falls Sherriff—Jodi Mills—had happened by and helped Jo to the local emergency care center before calling Bobby. Looking at her stepfather when Bobby hung up the phone, she asked, "What's up?"

"Oh, Fiona and the boys have got some monster snacking on people in Wisconsin," Bobby muttered as he headed for the desk. Glancing at the kitchen where two cake pans sat cooling, he felt his stomach growl, reminding him that he'd missed breakfast. Turning his attention to his books, he asked Jo, "So, uh… when's that cake gonna be ready?"

Jo looked over at Bobby and gave him a warm smile. "Let it cool for a while first."

Bobby just nodded but as he read, he kept glancing at the kitchen. After so many years alone after he'd killed Karen when she'd been possessed, it felt strange to suddenly have someone in his life again. Ellen loved him and she was always trying to take care of him.

And Jo was like the daughter he'd never had and she never wasted a single opportunity to show him that she was grateful to have a father figure in her life again.

* * *

><p>"Bobby called," Dean reported when Sam and Fiona got back from a burger run. "The thing's called a lamia. Some fugly out of Greece."<p>

"Did Bobby say anything about ganking it?" Fiona asked as she grabbed her burger from the bag.

"Silver knife blessed by a priest," Dean replied, grabbing his own double bacon cheeseburger. "So I figure we'll swing by the nearest church before we go deal with this mother."

As the three ate, Dean watched Sam and Fiona. After Fiona's confession the previous week that she was in love with Gabriel, Dean noticed that Sam seemed to be trying his best to win over Fi who in turn was actually going out with Gabriel on real dates.

While Dean and Fiona ate in silence, Sam pulled out his laptop and started a running commentary about lamias as he ate. "So a lamia is a half-woman half-snake creature with venomous fangs. Uh… according to a hunter in Greece, the venom is almost identical to the Western Diamondback rattlesnake." Looking at Fiona, he said, "Fi, I think you should sit this one out."

Fiona narrowed her eyes at Sam as she slurped the last of her soda. "You've got 10 seconds to think of what's wrong with what you just said," she said, glaring at Sam.

Clearing his throat, Sam backtracked. "Look, I don't want you to get hurt, okay? We're going up against a monster none of us have ever faced before. We don't know how strong it is or how it attacks."

"So you and Dean face off against the lamia and I'll hang back with a shotgun loaded with rock salt," Fiona replied with a shrug. "In case you've forgotten," she added, starting to get a bit annoyed. "—being paralyzed doesn't mean I'm useless."

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "But it also means that you've got some problems if it's a close quarters fight."

"Okay, come on," Fiona said, wheeling back from the table. "Dean, help Sam clear the floor up a bit more, okay?"

Dean was reluctant but sighed and helped Sam move the beds, table and chairs to open the floor up more. Standing back, he tried to keep his expression neutral as he watched the two start fighting. Sam was going lightly at first, but then he threw Fiona out of the wheelchair and Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing as his brother stood over her.

Just as Fiona started to turn over, she suddenly rammed her elbow into Sam's crotch and sat up, grinning as she watched Sam drop to his knees, and roll over on his back, holding a hand to his injured groin as he groaned.

Once she was back in the wheelchair, Fiona looked down at Sam with an oddly satisfied smile. "You were saying?"

But Sam couldn't say anything as he just lay on the floor, moaning in pain.

* * *

><p>For Bobby Singer, a typical day—one that didn't involve running his own cases—started at about 7 in the morning. He usually got up, started coffee and maybe some breakfast if he was feeling really hungry.<p>

When Ellen was around, though, breakfast was a definite and often accompanied by orange juice instead of the coffee.

But Ellen was still gone, so after Bobby got dressed and headed downstairs, he stopped when he smelled muffins baking. "Jo?"

"In the kitchen!" Jo called. When Bobby came in, she pointed to the plate of still warm chocolate chip muffins.

"Thanks," Bobby said with a grateful smile. After a quick muffin and a cup of coffee, he started to head for his study when the phone rang. Picking it up, he glanced at the caller ID and said, "Yeah, Garth. What do ya got?" He listened for a moment and frowned as he said, "I never heard of a vamp doing that. Doesn't sound like our kinda thing. Better drop a dime to the FBI."

He hung the phone up and a moment later, his FBI line rang. "Willis, FBI," Bobby said, brusquely. Hearing the voice on the other end, Bobby rolled his eyes. "No, Garth. Not me, the FBI. The _real_ FBI! How are you still alive?"

x

The day continued on the same way as various police forces called, wanting background on the hunters claiming to be federal agents, police, CDC, or other figures of authority.

While Jo tried to keep Bobby freshly fueled on coffee, she also kept reading on some of the other baddies that had been popping up all across the country. But when Bobby started getting multiple phones ringing at the same time, she headed into the kitchen and started taking calls.

While at first Bobby had been scared as shit that Jo wouldn't have the right attitude to field calls, after watching her for a while, he had to admit that if he were some cop and this tough-talking chick started giving him hell for questioning her authority… he'd probably drop the matter just so she'd leave him alone.

When he finally got a moment to breathe, Bobby rolled his eyes when he heard someone pounding urgently on the back door. When he answered it, he was surprised to see Rufus Turner standing there looking a bit frantic.

"Oh, good, you're home!" Rufus said, quickly. "Listen—You gotta help me bury a body!"

Bobby rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Gimme 2 minutes," he grumbled, going back to the kitchen.

"Is that Rufus?" Jo asked, looking surprised.

"Yeah," Bobby confirmed. "Damn idjit needs help with a body. You got things under control in here?"

"No problem," Jo assured him with a confident smile. It was one of the other things she loved about Bobby. He may have been her stepfather, but he never treated her as anything less than his own daughter and a more than able hunter.

Outside, Rufus grinned at Bobby when the other man finally came out. "So where's the new missus?"

"Ellen's working a case and Jo's resting from a sprained ankle," Bobby explained. "She's okay, but I think Ellen was worried about her being on a case." As he and Rufus walked towards the truck, Bobby asked, "So what'd ya find?"

"Check it out," Rufus said, going to the dead female in the truck bed and pulled the girl's lips back revealing a wicked set of sharp, pointed teeth.

"Okami?" Bobby said, incredulous. Looking at his old friend, he sounded astonished as he asked, "Where'd you shiv it?"

"Get this," the other hunter said, also sounding amazed. "Billings."

Bobby stared at the body of the dead okami. It was an oddly cool moment, he had to admit. "Only time I ever saw one of these was in Japan."

"Duh, _no one's_ ever seen one of these except in Japan," Rufus said, still not sure of what to make of the situation.

"Well, for what it's worth," Bobby added, thinking of the previous day. "—Sam and Dean are hunting a lamia in Wisconsin."

"Get out," Rufus said, sounding even more surprised if that was possible. "I thought they never leave Greece."

Bobby thought for a while and musing out loud he said, "Monsters lately… Is it me or is it weird?"

* * *

><p>Finding the lamia had been the easy part.<p>

Sam and Dean had gone into the first church they'd found followed by Fiona when they'd come across the freshly dead body of the priest and the lamia looming over the body, fangs bared.

All three hunters froze for a split second before they scattered, getting out of the way of the monster.

Dean whipped out his cell phone and speed-dialed Bobby's number. When the other hunter finally picked up, Dean said, quickly, "What's another way to kill a lamia?"

"What happened to the silver knife blessed by a priest?" Bobby asked, wondering what could have gone wrong because something obviously had.

"I didn't pan out," Dean snapped. "What's plan B?" Hearing Sam call his name, he added, quickly, "Come on, Bobby! Get the lead out!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Bobby muttered something to himself. "Where are you?" he finally asked.

"In a church—in a rectory!" Dean replied, whirling around as he heard a crash behind him. Sam was sprawled on one side of the room and Fiona was lying on the ground on the other side but she was making her way to the shotgun Sam had dropped.

Barely registering what Bobby was saying, Dean could hardly concentrate as he found salt and rosemary and blended them in a bowl. He turned to throw the mixture at the lamia and found the creature right on top of him. He dumped the salt and rosemary on the lamia just as it went to bite him. The thing howled in pained rage and went for a strike when it suddenly jerked back, giving Dean the few seconds he needed to get to the end of the kitchen.

Looking over at Fiona, Dean saw her holding her shotgun and gave her a grateful nod which Fiona returned with her own 'I've got your back' look.

Pulling the old oven away from the wall, he cut the gas line and made a flame thrower out of it as he called, "Fire in the hole!"

Once the lamia was reduced to an extra crispy corpse, Sam, Fiona and Dean hurried as best they could out of the church and back to the Impala, Sam driving them back to the motel for a much needed patch-up.

* * *

><p>After Sherriff Mills had left Bobby's house, the hunter closed the door and led Gibbs-who had been with the Sherriff and 'investigating' Rufus and his dead body-into the kitchen where Jo was already dishing out pieces of her caramel apple layer cake.<p>

"So how'd you find out about Rufus?" Bobby wanted to know.

Gibbs smiled as he sat at the kitchen table, taking the piece of cake and glass of bourbon Jo gave him. "I've got my sources." When Bobby still looked curious, Gibbs said, "Got a good friend in the FBI. Heard about some attacks around here so I figured I'd come check it out."

"Well," Bobby said as he took a bite of cake and nearly swooned. Jo really needed to go to culinary school or something. "Better you than some other fed." He went for another bite of cake, but was interrupted by the phones ringing again. After giving Gibbs an apologetic look, he started taking calls again while the NCIS senior agent watched with something almost resembling amusement.

* * *

><p>While Sam and Fiona had been lucky enough to get away with bruises and some minor scratches during the fight with the lamia, Dean hadn't been so fortunate. The lamia's fangs had caught him in the shoulder and while the invenomation hadn't been as bad as it could have been, Sam had still had to take Dean to the hospital for antivenin.<p>

x

When the trio finally got back to the motel, Fiona went to her own room to try and get some sleep while Sam and Dean went to the adjoining room.

Pulling out his cell phone which he'd switched off while in the emergency room, Sam raised an eyebrow when he saw that there were almost 10 messages—7 voicemail messages and 3 text messages—all from Bobby.

"Better call him," Dean muttered as he lay down on his bed.

Sam nodded once and dialed the older hunter's number. When the line picked up, he said, "Bobby? It's Sam."

Even though he was a good 6 feet away, Dean still heard Bobby clear as the older man said, "Where the HELL have you two idjits been? I've been calling for hours!"

"Bobby, we're fine," Sam assured him, calmly. "Dean got a bite from the lamia, but—"

"And you didn't think to call and tell me that?" Bobby snapped again. "I've been going out of my mind worrying about you two idjits!"

"Sorry," Sam replied with a slight snap in his voice. "I was kinda busy at the hospital making sure Dean didn't die from lamia venom."

"Sam," Dean interjected as he sat up from his bed.

"I mean, I had more important things to worry about than calling you," Sam went on, ignoring his brother.

"Sam," Dean pressed again, holding his hand out for Sam's phone.

"You know, instead of being selfish and thinking it's all about you," the younger Winchester continued. "—maybe you should think about what _we're _dealing with for a change."

"Sam!" Dean shouted, angrily as he snatched the cell phone away from his brother. "Bobby, look, Sam didn't mean-"

"Dean, put me on speaker," Bobby snapped, irritably.

"Yes, sir," Dean replied, demurely. Once he'd done so, he said, "You're on speaker, Bobby."

* * *

><p><em>(POV shift to Bobby)<em>

Just like boy bands, internet pop-up ads, and those Empire Floor commercials, there was only so much bitching and whining you could take before you completely snapped.

Bobby understood that the Winchester family had issues. God, the number of times he'd heard John or James Brendon griping about one thing or another… And while Sam wasn't as bad, Dean could bitch circles around his old man, especially now when he was hung up on whatever was wrong with his brother and dealing with Fiona's issues.

But there was a time to go along with it and a time to draw the line. When Sam accused Bobby of being selfish, that was the moment he'd had enough. "Put me on speaker," Bobby ordered, trying to hold his patience until he had Dean _and_ Sam on the line.

After a moment, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and waited until Dean came back on the line.

Once Dean reported he'd turned the speaker function on his cellphone on, Bobby poured himself a generous shot of whiskey and prepared to do something that he'd secretly wanted to do for years: let the Winchester brothers have it with both barrels. "Sam, Dean… I love you like my own. I do. But sometimes…" Downing his drink in one go, Bobby let loose. "_Sometimes_, you two are the whiniest, most self-absorbed sons of bitches I ever met!" All the times he'd helped them and never received so much as a 'thanks, Bobby', ran through his mind as he got going on the rant.

"_I'm_ selfish? _Me_?" Bobby went on. He was on a roll now and there would be no stopping and no interruptions until he was good and ready. "I do everything for you. _Everything_! You need some lore scrounged up? You need your asses pulled out of the fire? You need someone to bitch to about _each other_? You call me and I come through _every damn time_! And what do I get for it? _Jack_, with a side of _squat_!"

As he expected, Dean tried to reply but this time, Bobby was having none of it. He didn't want to hear the excuses, the 'oh, sure, we get it, sorry' lame-ass crap. "Do I _sound_ like I'm done?" Forcing himself to calm down before he had a coronary, he gave a deep, exasperated sigh. "Now, look… I know you've got _issues_. God knows, I know. But I got a news flash for you: _You ain't the center of the universe_! Now it may have slipped your mind that Crowley owns my soul and the meter is running! And I will be damned if I'm going to sit around and—and _be damned_! So how about the two of you _sack up_ and _help me _for once?"

There was a pause and then Sam replied, calmly, "Bobby, all you gotta do is ask."

Dean chimed in as well. "Anything you need, we're there."

"You two just don't get it, do you?" Bobby went on as he poured himself another drink. "When was the last time either of you _volunteered_ to help me with something? Do you have any idea how much I bust my ass for you and all the other hunters out there every damn day? Playing fed, looking stuff up, making sure whatever piece of crap you're driving stays running? I'm not just at _your_ beck and call, you know!"

He gulped down his second drink, not noticing Jo coming in from the study. "You two idjits whine and bitch about how you guys don't get a break very often when I _never _get a break! Hell, Ellen and I have barely had one night alone since we've been married!"

"Okay, give me the phone," Jo said, quickly. She wrestled the phone away from Bobby and said to Sam and Dean, "You guys really need to get your heads out of your asses. I'm not saying that you're not allowed a hissy fit every once in a while, but suck it up, alright? I mean, you guys, my mom… you all treat me like I'm a kid and I'm going to get ripped apart by hellhounds again but I don't go on about it all the time! So stop acting like whiny teenagers and grow up!"

There was a brief silence in which Dean or Sam made some sort of reply and then Jo nodded. "Okay. Bobby will call you when he's got a specific location where you need to go." A second later, she said, "Scotland. And I don't care if you do have a problem with flying, Dean. You _will_ get on that plane even if I have to hogtie you and drag you on myself."

* * *

><p><em>Three Days Later<em>

When Ellen got back a couple days later, she found Bobby inside, sleeping on the couch and Jo in the kitchen doing research. "So how was your week?" Ellen asked, setting a bag of groceries on the counter next to what was left of the cake.

"Quiet," Jo replied with a smirk. "Handled the phones and stuff. No big deal."

"Uh-huh," Ellen replied, sounding doubtful. But she let the subject drop for the moment. Looking from her daughter to her husband, she wondered what had gone on while she was away. "So how's the ankle?" she asked as Jo limped over to the counter.

"Little sore, but I'm okay," Jo assured her mother.

Ellen nodded and replied, "Well, sit down and I'll start dinner."

Jo did so, but just as she was about to close up the books open at the kitchen table, the FBI line rang. Picking it up quickly so as not to wake Bobby, she answered, "FBI, Special Agent Cruze speaking." When the cop on the other end of the line inquired as to the whereabouts of 'Special Agent Willis', Jo went on. "Willis is in a meeting right now. Yeah, of course we sent her. One of our top agents, actually…"

Ellen just shook her head as she started dinner, wondering—yet again—what Jo and Bobby had really been doing the past 5 days.


	6. Live Free or TwiHard

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this is when the other characters finally find what's going on with Sam after Dean gets turned into a vampire by… Well, I'll wait and let you read for yourselves. Needless to say if you hate 'Twilight' you'll love this chapter.

There's also some Gabriel and Death in this chapter along with Grandpa Campbell. And instead of the canon scene with VampDean visiting Lisa and Ben, Dean goes to Ziva who responds by… trust me—you don't want me to ruin it.

Chapter 6

* * *

><p><em>Live Free or Twi-Hard Because You Can't Handle the Truth<em>

* * *

><p>It was one of those times where Dean really just wanted to pull his gun out and start shooting.<p>

Two days ago—while helping Bobby work the phones—he and Sam had gotten wind of a possible case in Pennsylvania about 3 missing teenage girls. The disappearances also happened to coincide with a week-long science fiction convention named—

"Vamp-Con?" Dean said for what felt like the hundredth time in 10 minutes. "_Seriously_?" Looking at Sam and Fiona, he gave them a look that made him seem like a whiny 6 year old being dragged around by his parents. "What the hell are we doing here anyway?"

"All three girls were last seen at the convention," Sam replied, looking around. Suddenly he stopped and looked around at the different stations set up around the convention center. "Hey, Dean, do you see something missing here?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Someone with half a brain?" Fiona said, frowning. But as she looked around at the writers, producers and actors who were taking pictures with fans, there was one person who was conspicuously absent. "Oh, no way," she said, looking at Sam in disbelief.

Dean had caught on as well and rolled his eyes. "You're kidding me."

xxxxxxxx

Back at the motel, Dean looked up Stephanie Meyer and looked up at Sam and Fiona as he read from an online article. "'Ms. Meyer was unavailable for comment after surviving the animal attack and has since disappeared from public life, although she continues to correspond with her publishers and the writers of the final 'Twilight' movie.'" Dean leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "Chick writes all this crap about 'good' vampires and ends up getting turned by a bad one. I guess there is such a thing as justice."

"And she still writes pseudo-romance crap between impressionable teenage girls and vampires," Fiona snapped, irritably, as she lay on the floor in front of one of the beds doing crunches. "Making these girls easy prey for _real_ vamps."

"So how do we find out who's a fang and who's not?" Sam asked the others as he grabbed a couple beers from the fridge in the corner. Looking at Fiona who was now just lying on her back on the floor, her face lightly pinched in pain, Sam set the three beers down on the table where Dean was sitting before bending down to pick Fi up and gently laying her on the bed.

Fiona pulled her t-shirt off so that she was just in her sports bra and after turning so she was on her stomach, she waited for Sam to do her evening massage.

As Sam worked the knotted muscles of Fi's back, he once again felt the odd rush of feelings and emotions that lately only happened when he and Fiona were in close contact like they were now. And while Sam could appreciate the fact that his lack of emotion made him a better hunter, there was still a part of him that longed for things to be the way they'd been before he'd been to Hell.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Investigating into who the missing girls might have left the convention with brought Sam, Dean, and Fiona to a teen club a few blocks away from the center the following night.

At a table in a quiet corner, Dean ordered a round of beers before looking around at the crowd. "Anything?" he asked, looking from Sam to Fi.

"Check out the guy over there," Sam said, nodding casually in the direction of a man standing in the shadows by the back door.

The guy was built like a bouncer and he seemed to be studying one of the older teenagers as he sat at a table with a younger girl dressed in black.

Without another word, the three hunters left their table and while Dean and Sam headed for the rear entrance, Fiona went around to the front, just in case the vampires decided to make a run for it.

But the front of the club was quiet with only the usual throng of teenagers going inside.

As she turned to go back inside, however, Fiona paused as she heard the sounds of a violent scuffle coming from the alley behind the club and headed towards the back as fast as she could, stopping dead when she saw one of the female vampires pressing his bleeding arm to Dean's mouth. "No!" she shouted, frantically, pulling her gun and firing at the monster.

The fang dropped Dean to the ground and Fi wheeled over to her best friend just as Sam came over, kneeling down next to his brother.

"Let's get him out of here," Sam said, quickly and calmly. "Before they come back." He picked up Dean in a fireman's carry and headed back to where the Impala was parked, Fiona bringing up the rear.

xxxx

"Sam, we have to do it," Fiona said as she watched Dean frantically pacing the motel room an hour later. Dean had been drifting in and out of consciousness for the first 30 half hour after the attack in the alley but once he came fully awake, he'd been pacing like an animal.

"Look, Samuel's on his way," Sam argued. "He'll be able to help. I know it."

"The only way anyone's helping me," Dean snapped, angrily. "—is by cutting off my goddamn head before I hurt someone!"

"Dean, will you just calm down?" Sam insisted, watching his brother.

"Calm down?" Dean repeated as he finally stopped moving and fixed his gaze on Sam. "That's funny coming from you since you're the only one in the room NOT freaking out!" He resumed pacing after ripping the alarm clock away from the wall. Looking at his brother again, he said, "And just why the hell are you so sure that our grandfather can help?"

Sam sighed and sat down on one of the beds. "Look, the man has a cure for djinn poisoning. Maybe he knows a way to cure vampires, too."

"You better hope he knows something," Dean muttered, heading towards the bathroom.

Once Dean had closed the door, Fiona wheeled around to face Sam. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Sam?" she said, angrily. "Your brother is a vampire and you're acting like it's nothing."

"What good is it being freaked out if it doesn't help anything?" Sam snapped in response. "Look, I get that this is bad. But I'm not going to start panicking if I don't have to."

Fiona was about to say something else—or possibly fire a load of rock salt at Sam—when she stopped, wheeled around, and headed for the bathroom. Opening the door, she let out a low growl.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, standing and heading towards the bathroom.

"Dean's gone," Fi snapped, making a beeline for her cellphone.

* * *

><p><em>Washington, DC<em>

Ziva woke with a start and nearly jumped out of bed when she saw Dean lurking in the shadows of their bedroom near the window. "Dean?" she said, warily as she got out of bed. But when she turned the bedside light on, she noticed that Dean seemed to practically recoil from the light. "Are you okay?"

"Not exactly," Dean muttered as he sat down on the bed. He didn't look at his fiancée as he said, "Ziva, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I've pulled you into this crap."

Ziva went to put a hand on Dean's shoulder, but as soon as she touched him he was suddenly right on top of her and—she gasped when she saw the fangs in Dean's mouth as he started for her neck. Quickly, Ziva threw Dean off and went for her gun, pointing it at the hunter's heart. "What the hell are you?" she asked, not lowering her weapon.

"I sure as hell ain't Edward, I'll tell you that much," Dean muttered, feeling the slightest sense of relief when he felt the vamp teeth receding.

"You got turned into a vampire?" Ziva said in surprise, still aiming her gun at Dean. When she caught Dean's astonished look that she got the reference, she shrugged. "Tony bought me the complete 'Twilight' series for my birthday last year for some reason. I do not even like the books. They are far too weird and… annoying for my taste." But when Dean suddenly lunged after her again without warning, she fired out of reflex and watched her fiancé stagger backwards, holding his left shoulder.

"What the Hell did you have that gun loaded with?" Dean exclaimed, groaning as he clutched his injured shoulder.

"Bullets an old friend from Israel sent me when he found out I was engaged to a hunter," Ziva replied, standing up. "I'm told they're painful for most supernatural creatures."

"Yeah, I'll agree with that," Dean groaned as he sank down onto the floor. When the phone rang, he sighed resignedly. "Better get that. I'm sure it's Sam checking that you're still alive."

Ziva didn't say anything to Dean but she kept her gun trained on him with one hand while she answered the ringing phone with the other hand. "Yes?"

"Ziva, are you okay?" Samuel Campbell said, quickly.

"I am fine," Ziva assured the older hunter as she sat down on the bed again. "Dean is here. I am aware that he's a vampire. I already shot him."

"Okay…" Samuel said, slowly. "Look, Sam and I are about an hour away. Just don't let Dean drink _one drop_ of blood. We've got the stuff for a cure for Dean but it won't work if he drinks."

"Understood," Ziva said, dropping the phone as Dean went for her a third time. After shooting him in the side, she snatched up the phone and asked, "Is Dean going to be okay even if I shot him twice?"

* * *

><p>Back in the motel room in PA, Fiona had an evil smile on her face as she drafted the fake police report on the death of Stephanie Meyer by an insane fan who was convinced that Ms. Meyer was really a vampire herself. Deep down, Fi knew it was wrong to derive such pleasure from the situation, but who cared?<p>

"I'm surprised at you, Miss Brendon."

Fiona looked up sharply and almost jumped when she saw Death sitting across from her at the table. "Jeez! Wear a bell or something, man!" But she gave the Horseman a raised eyebrow when he handed her a bag from a local diner. "What's this?"

"The best Philly Cheesesteak in all of Pennsylvania," Death replied, withdrawing his own sandwich. "Believe me… I have spent a long time tasting these things."

Fiona pushed her laptop away and started to eat. "What's with the junk food? I mean, you could try anything, but this…" She took another bit of the sandwich and let out a sigh of pleasure. "Okay, this is awesome; I give you points for that, but…"

Death smiled at Fiona and replied, "You humans spend so much time denying yourselves simple indulgences in a futile desire to delay the inevitable. I have no need to worry about such things."

The two ate in silence for a while but finally, Fiona asked, "What are you doing here?"

The Horseman said nothing as he finished his Cheesesteak and after wiping his fingers, he said, "Apparently you've forgotten our little conversation regarding Sam Winchester's soul."

Fiona wolfed down the remainder of her own sandwich and crumpled up the wrapper, tossing it in the garbage can as she snapped, "Yeah, well, maybe you could have given me a little more information on that." Looking Death in the eye, she said, "Because if I'm the keeper of Sam's soul then why is he still being such a dick?"

"Because Sam's soul is still trapped," Death explained, calmly. In truth there was something about Fiona he liked. The girl wasn't afraid of him like Dean Winchester and yet she still showed him the proper respect… most of the time, anyway. Pointing to the ring on Fiona's hand, Death explained, "His soul is bound inside your ring. That is why when the two of you are in close contact, Sam seems to be more his normal self."

"Great, so how do we get Sam's soul out of the ring and back into his body?" Fiona asked, eagerly.

Death shrugged casually. "Haven't the foggiest," he replied. "Honestly, the situation has never come up before." Leaning back in his chair, he went on. "There's been an upset in the balance of power in Heaven. Souls are being collected for their power. If Sam's soul is not restored soon, it may be lost to you forever as a casualty of Heaven's war."

"Oh, so no pressure," Fiona said, sarcastically. Catching the raised eyebrow from Death, she sighed. "Look, I don't know how to fix this problem, alright? So since you're older and wiser than… well, anyone else, maybe you can give me a clue as to what the Hell to do!"

Neither spoke for a while. Death seemed to be considering Fiona's words and Fiona just stared him in the eye, looking like she expected the Horseman to immediately come up with a solution. Finally, he said, "As I told you before, this is a highly unique situation. One which requires considerable power to remedy." Death thought for another long moment and finally stood. "If I find the answer, I assure you, I will inform you."

Before Fiona could say anything, Death had vanished from the room. "Thanks, I guess," she muttered. Looking down at the Claddaugh ring she wore for a moment, she wondered if this wasn't the reason she hadn't been able to move on the past year. She'd still been holding onto Sam because his soul was still trapped in the ring, unbeknownst to her.

"I'm not talking 'bout movin' in. And I don't want to change your life. But there's a warm wind blowing the stars around and I'd really love to see you tonight," Gabriel sang as he suddenly appeared in the chair Death had vacated only moments before.

Fiona couldn't help smiling as she looked at the archangel. "Hey, Gabriel."

"Hey, yourself," the angel replied, grinning back. "So Dean's part of the blood drinking fang set now, huh?"

"Yeah, well…" Fiona muttered, rubbing her face with both hands as she thought about the situation—which had been momentarily forgotten because of Death's visit. "Sam and his grandfather are on their way to find Dean and hopefully cure him."

"Why didn't you just call me?" Gabriel asked, curiously. "I could have had that cleared up in a jiff."

Lowering her hands, Fiona was suddenly surprised that she hadn't had that thought earlier. "You can do that?"

"Well, as a Trickster, no," Gabriel admitted with a slightly embarrassed shrug. "But Cas could have done it in a heartbeat. Or Celeste, or Balthazar." Noticing that Fiona seemed to have things on her mind other that Dean's issue, he asked, "What's up?"

"Death came by," Fiona replied with a forced smile. "Sam doesn't have his soul because it's apparently trapped in the Claddaugh ring he gave me."

"So how do you get the soul out?" Gabriel wanted to know. In all his years of life, he'd never heard of something like this happening before.

"Death is on it," the hunter said, shrugging.

The archangel was quiet for a moment as he studied Fiona. He'd been watching her even more closely than usual lately and there was a question that was on his mind. "So when are you going to let one of the winged set heal you so you can get out of that wheelchair?"

Fiona wheeled backwards and headed towards her bed where she started shoving her things back into her duffle. "I'm not," she said, finally.

"Why not?" Gabriel asked, not understanding. He'd been after the woman for more than a year now and she still hadn't given him what he considered an honest answer. When Fiona showed no signs of responding to the question, the archangel sighed resignedly. "I didn't want to resort to this," he said, pulling an old fashioned horn out of nowhere. Before Fiona could look at him to ask what he was doing, Gabriel blew on the horn, letting out one long note before sending the horn back to its hiding place.

* * *

><p>The drive back to Pennsylvania was made mostly in silence with Sam driving the Impala and Dean unconscious in the backseat.<p>

After Dean had taken the cure which had apparently been effective, Ziva had called Ducky over to take care of the gunshot wounds. Once Dean had been patched up and properly medicated with painkillers and antibiotics, Sam and Samuel had hauled Dean out to the Impala before stretching him out in the backseat, an IV still in his arm delivering the necessary drugs into his system.

Samuel rode shotgun, periodically shifting glances from one grandson to the other. "You let Dean get turned, didn't you?" Samuel said, a slight accusatory tone in his voice. When Sam didn't answer, Samuel let out a sigh. "You scare me, Sam. You're impulsive, reckless… And you don't even seem to care when your own brother gets turned into a bloodsucking fiend."

Sam was quiet for a moment and finally, he said, "Something's wrong with me. I know that much. Emotions, conscience… It's like they're all turned down. I don't know what it is or what's causing it, and I honestly don't care. I'm a better hunter without all that crap."

Samuel turned to look at Sam, disbelief in his eyes. "How can you even say that?"

Sam hesitated, wondering what had possessed him to make that confession. "I didn't even mean to say that." Without another word, he pressed the gas pedal down as far as it would go, speeding the car and her passengers back to PA as fast as they could possibly go.

* * *

><p>"I'll ask again," Gabriel said, calmly after getting rid of the Horn of Truth. Looking at Fiona who still hadn't turned to face him. "Why don't you want anyone healing you?"<p>

Fiona seemed to be resisting the effects of the Horn, but finally she let out a breath. "Because I don't care." Wheeling around, she looked at Gabriel before looking at herself. "I promised Dean back when I was paralyzed the first time that I wouldn't kill myself. When Sam jumped into that hole, I wanted to die. But Dean made me promise him _again_. I don't care what happens to me. It doesn't matter if I never walk again because to me it's just more crap that I have to deal with in this shitty life. I hate hunting and yet I can't stop." She paused a moment and then added, "And for the record… I fell in love with you because you remind me of Sam before all this Apocalypse crap started."

The truth surprised Gabriel. He'd thought that maybe Fiona had preferred the physical pain of being paralyzed to dealing with the emotional pain of losing Sam. "So what are you going to do now?" Gabriel asked, curiously.

Fiona let out a laugh at the question and shrugged. "No freakin' clue. At this point I say we all go to Vegas or something." After giving the idea a moment's thought, she pulled out her cell phone and brought up her phone directory. After highlighting one number, she dialed and waited until the other line picked up. "Hey, McCoy, It's Gunnery Sergeant Brendon. Any chance you could hook me up with a couple rooms for about a week?"

* * *

><p>AN: Okay, I apologize for the mediocre chapter. But I promise to make up for it in the next chapter which will feature Death, Crowley, Ellen, Jo, Bobby, and the NCIS team.

Now, for those not familiar with the TV show 'Las Vegas', here's the basics since this will come into play next chapter. The show takes place at the Montecito Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada. It was originally run by Ed Deline, formerly of the CIA, and until the end of the show's 4th season, he was the President of Operations.

That position was taken up by Danny McCoy when Ed went on the run after killing the abusive father of one of his employees, Mary Connell.

Here's the character line-up as it stood at the end of the 5th season:

AJ Cooper—Owner of the Montecito and a former Marine. He's new to the whole Casino and hotel business thing but seems to be adapting well.

Danny McCoy—Currently married to Ed Deline's daughter, Delinda. The series ended with Delinda being pregnant and something being wrong with the baby. For the sake of this story, both Delinda and her daughter are fine.

Sam Marquez—The Montecito's number 1 casino host. She married the brother of former Montecito owner Casey Manning, Vic Manning.

Mike Cannon—Head of Montecito surveillance and security. He married concierge Piper Neilson during a drunken Vegas wedding and the couple made it official at the end of the 5th season of the show.

I'll try to fill in gaps during the


	7. What Happens In Vegas

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So I've had this chapter idea in my head ever since I started this story series, believe it or not. Just one of those random ideas that needed the right time and place to work.

For in depth details on the TV show 'Las Vegas' has plenty of information.

Now, I know I said last chapter that Death and Crowley would be popping up, but they couldn't make it and they dent their sincerest regrets.

I also have to apologize because this chapter is full of cheesy, cutesy, sweet family fluff. It is the most light-hearted, fun chapter I have written and serves only one purpose—to give everyone a couple happy moments.

That being said, please enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review on the way out. (I still have Crowley and his hellhounds on speed-dial.)

* * *

><p><em>What Happens In Vegas… Ends Up On YouTube<em>

_('Las Vegas' crossover chapter)_

* * *

><p>The neon lights of Las Vegas, Nevada lit up the streets as Sam drove towards the Montecito Hotel and Casino. In the passenger seat of the Impala, Dean slept, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. In the backseat, Fiona and Ziva slept as well, not even stirring when Sam pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car.<p>

A week and a half earlier, Dean had been turned into a vampire by none other than Stephanie Meyer herself and had only survived due to a cure that Sam and Dean's grandfather had possessed.

After dealing with the nest of vampires preying on teenage girls, Sam, Dean, and Fiona had headed back to Washington DC so that Dean could rest up from being shot twice by Ziva. But thankfully, Dean was healing up just fine and once Ziva had assured him that she still wanted to get married, the four had headed to Las Vegas for a much deserved vacation.

x

In the lobby of the hotel, Sam looked around, not sure of who to talk to. Fiona had called last week to make the arrangements, but she hadn't given him a name of someone to talk to if she hadn't been available.

"Hi," said a petite woman with black hair and dazzling brown eyes. She was hot and she knew it, every move showing off her incredible figure. "I'm Samantha Marquez-Manning." She gave Sam a seductive smile as she held out her hand. "You can call me Sam."

Sam smiled back and shook the woman's hand as he replied, "Sam Winchester."

"Nice to meet you, Sam," Samantha replied back. "I'm a casino host here at the Montecito. If there's anything I can do for you… don't hesitate to ask."

Sam nodded and after a moment of mentally undressing the woman standing before him, he said, "Uh, a friend of mine called in a reservation last week."

"This friend have a name?" Samantha asked, raising an eyebrow in the unspoken query as to whether the friend was male or female.

"Fiona Brendon," Sam told her, casually. "She said she knows the guy who runs the place."

"That would be Danny McCoy," the casino host clarified. "The Montecito's President of Operations. From what I hear, Danny served with Fiona in the Marines about 15 years ago."

Sam frowned at the woman and raised an eyebrow as he asked, "How'd you know about that?"

Samantha's smile shifted from seductive to sly as she replied, "It's my business to know everything about the whales—that's the term for clients who are loaded, by the way. I know a lot about Fiona. And you and your brother."

Sam crossed his arms and studied Samantha Marquez-Manning. He wondered just what kinds of intel she had on the hunters and finally said, "Like what?"

Samantha's smile never wavered as she said, "Your dad was best friends with Fiona's in the Marines. You and Dean have known Fiona all your lives and the longest you went without seeing each other was when Fiona was in the Marines and you were at Stanford studying pre-law." Looking around the lobby, she asked, "So where are Dean and Fiona?"

Sam opened his mouth to reply that they were out sleeping in the car when he caught sight of his brother and the two ladies coming towards him. Dean was still moving a little on the slow side and seemed to be a little put off by the fact that Ziva was carrying the dufflebag the brothers used while Fiona had her own bag on her lap. Without saying a word, he just nodded in their direction and when Samantha turned, he took the opportunity to get a good look at her ass.

Something that, unfortunately, was not missed by Fiona who smiled warmly as she shook Samantha's hand. "So Dean, Sam, Ziva, and I are here for a double wedding and honeymoon," Fiona explained as they followed Samantha to the check-in desk.

"Great," Samantha said, brightly. "We love weddings here at the Montecito. Do you need any help planning everything or was this just a spur of the moment thing?"

"Spur of the moment," Fiona confirmed, shooting a glare at Sam who seemed not to notice.

As long as Samantha had been a casino host, it still sometimes amazed her how jealous couples could be. But in the case of Sam Winchester and Fiona Brendon, it seemed to be a bit more than that. The two certainly seemed like an engaged couple but there was an odd tension between them. On the other hand, Dean Winchester and Ziva David had less of the tension but there was still something odd with them. After a moment, Samantha made a mental note to ask Mick Cannon—the head of Montecito surveillance and security—to try and find a bit more background on the couple.

But Samantha pushed her thoughts aside for a moment and watched the four check in. After a moment, she called Danny to let him know that his old friend had arrived.

x

In the office of the President of Operations, Danny kept his eyes fixed on the paperwork he'd actually finished reading almost 10 minutes ago. Across from him, leaning against the desk with only her eyes and the top of her head visible over the edge, was his 5-year-old daughter, Nikki.

It was a game father and daughter liked to play. Danny would pretend to be working while Nikki watched and eventually the little girl would say something.

"Aunt Sam told me to tell you your friend's here," Nikki said, raising her head and going on her tip-toes so she could rest her arms on the top of the desk.

"Fiona?" Danny asked, looking up.

Nikki nodded. "Yeah. Aunt Sam said she seems nice."

Danny smiled as he remembered the last time he'd seen Fiona during his last deployment in the Marines. "She's real nice," he assured his daughter. Standing up from his desk, he said, "Hey, why don't you go hang out with Uncle Mikey for a little bit while I go see Fiona?" When Nikki ran off, Danny found him thinking yet again how blessed he was to have such a cool kid for a daughter.

x

As he looked around the suite he and Ziva were staying in, Dean slowly pulled his jacket off, trying not to wince as the healing wound in his side twinged a bit. After a moment, he lay down on the bed on his back, still fully dressed, and closed his eyes, just intending to snooze for a moment. But that idea was screwed to Hell when his cell phone rang. Groaning as he dug the phone out and answered it, he growled, "Yeah, what?"

"Don't you growl at me," Ellen's voice chastised. "Why didn't you tell me you and Ziva were getting married in Vegas?"

Dean sat up, ignoring the throbbing in his side and frowned as he asked, "How'd you find out about that?"

"Celeste," Ellen replied, her tone clearly indicating that Dean wasn't off the hook yet. "So why didn't _you_ tell me?"

Dean sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. "Because I didn't plan on it. I just thought we were here for some downtime. But it looks like Ziva and I _are_ getting married here, so…"

"Jo, Bobby, and I will be on a flight in the morning," Ellen assured Dean. After a brief pause, she added, "I'll call Gibbs and let him know."

"Thanks, Ellen," Dean replied, sincerely. When he hung up the phone, he heard the bathroom door open and he thought his heart was about to stop when he saw Ziva standing there wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts. "Uh…" Dean's heart started to race as Ziva slowly walked towards the bed, slowly unbuttoning the shirt and finally letting it fall to the floor as she joined Dean in bed.

xxxxxx

Down in the main casino floor, Fiona had left Sam at one of the poker tables while she went to the bar and ordered a double bourbon, neat. It was true that she and Sam were here to get married. A few days ago, Death had stopped by explaining that there was a way to get Sam's soul back in his body and it involved Sam and Fiona tying the not. Specifically, 'the joining of two souls in a holy union'. But things were complicated now and as much as Fi missed being with Sam, she couldn't stop thinking about how different he'd been without his soul.

"I hate to see a beautiful woman drinking alone."

Fi smiled as she looked up to see Danny McCoy standing in front of her wearing a big grin. "And I hate good-looking guys staring down at me," she said, gesturing to the other chair. "Sit down so I don't feel like a midget."

Danny hesitated a moment, confused by her statement and it was another second or two before he noticed that Fiona was in a wheelchair. He quickly sat down as he asked, "What happened?"

"The job," Fiona replied, shrugging. She remembered only too well when Danny had stumbled upon what was really out there.

It had been a bit over 8 years ago during Danny's last official deployment and he had come across a werewolf one night on a patrol. After dispatching the creature, Fiona had decided to tell Danny about the paranormal world.

Danny flagged one of the waitresses and ordered a scotch on the rocks before he said, "So what was it exactly?"

"A demon," Fiona replied, simply as she downed half of her drink in one gulp. When she finished her bourbon, she elaborated. "I was possessed and the demon was forcing me to hurt Sam and Dean." The cliff-notes version seemed to be the better way to go as Fi didn't feel like going into the whole angels and Hell issue. "I have this knife that kills demons and I stabbed myself to kill it. The knife blade hit my spine and I ended up paralyzed."

"God, that… that sucks," Danny said, gulping down his own drink before flagging down their waitress and ordering another round. "So how long ago did it happen?"

Fiona waited until the drinks came before she replied, "About two years ago. I, uh, was starting to get better, you know? I was walking and getting around on my own again and then…"

Danny paused with his glass halfway to his lips as he said, "And then?"

Fiona's smile was half amusement and half embarrassment. "Two words—bar fight."

Danny looked like he wanted to laugh, but he refrained. "Ohhhh… Man, what happened?"

Fiona finally laughed as she spun the tale, making a mental note to fill Sam and Dean in on the revised details. "The Winchesters and I were out with Dean's fiancée, Ziva. There were a couple college girls hitting on the guys and Ziva and I started the fight. It was going fine until I got hit in the back by someone's chair."

But Danny seemed amused by the situation, even though he tried not to show it. "You started a bar fight while recovering from being paralyzed?" he repeated, astonished.

"In retrospect, not one of my more brilliant moves," Fi admitted, sipping her drink. "But what have you been up to lately? How's being a father working out?"

The Montecito president beamed as he pulled his wallet out and removed several pictures of his daughter.

xxxxx

When Dean found his brother at one of the blackjack tables, he pulled out the money Fiona had loaned him earlier that day for playing in the casino and bought his chips without even a glance at Sam.

After the two brothers played a couple hands with Dean coming out on top, he finally flicked his gaze to Sam as he said, "I'm sorry, Sammy."

"For what?" Sam asked, not quite sure what his brother was apologizing for.

Dean weighed his next words carefully and finally said, "Look, I haven't really been happy about you being back because I saw what you coming back was doing to Fi. And now the two of you are finally tying the knot and I didn't even say congratulations. So… I'm sorry. And I'm happy for you, Sammy."

Sam was quiet for a moment before he finally turned to his brother and said, "Thanks. I appreciate that, Dean."

Dean just nodded as the dealer gave him his cards.

* * *

><p>The next morning found Ziva and Fiona at a bridal store further down the Vegas strip looking at dresses while Dean and Sam went to a nearby jewelry store to shop for wedding bands.<p>

As he walked in the store, Sam hesitated just a moment as old memories started coming to the surface of his mind.

* * *

><p><em>7 Years Ago<em>

_It had started with a casual meeting at a party at Stanford._

_Before Sam Winchester knew what had hit him, he found himself in love with Jessica Moore. At first, though, he'd been reluctant to start anything since he always seemed to have Fiona on his mind. But the truth was that Fi and Jess were very different people._

_Jessica had been pre-med and had wanted to help people by eventually opening her own free clinic in the city. She was kind, warm, and loving. While Jess had no talent for cooking, despite repeated efforts, she had the magic touch when it came to baked goods. Cookies, cakes, and even pies that would have made Dean swoon._

_Fiona had been fighting with her father before she turned 18 and during her birthday party at Bobby's house, she'd announced that she was joining the Marines. To Sam, Fiona had been his first real love and as much a hero and role model as Dean._

_But Fiona was far away now and while Sam would always love her, he had a new future that was built around Jess. _

_And so, one afternoon while Jess was in class, Sam had gone to the city and after hours of looking, he finally found the perfect engagement ring. True, it had cost him just about every last dollar he'd been saving up, but it would be worth it to see the look on Jessica's face when he asked her to marry him._

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

One of the hardest things about being in a wheelchair, Fiona had discovered, was figuring out clothes. Shirts generally weren't a problem, but pants were trickier. Even more so was the issue of shoes. Fi had learned over the past two years that slip-on shoes and zip-up boots were easier to get on and off.

But this didn't make trying on wedding dresses any easier. In fact, it made looking for a dress almost impossible.

When the ladies got back to the Montecito after an afternoon of trying on about 7 different dresses, they were surprised to find Samantha and Danny waiting by the hotel's event center with a woman in her 40's.

"What's all this?" Fiona asked, curiously.

Samantha grinned as she indicated the mystery woman. "Well, I talked to Danny last night and this morning I called my friend Vicki Wilkinson." She indicated the other woman. "Vicki has the most amazing eye for wedding dresses."

Vicki looked Fiona and Ziva over for a few minutes and then nodded definitively. "Not white," she commented. "Neither of you are white wedding dress girls. White is for purity… innocence. The two of you are strong, confident women and therefore you need something daring."

"So… what do you suggest?" Samantha asked, also curious.

Vicki eyed Ziva and Fiona once again and then said, "Follow me."

The four ladies—Vicki, Samantha, Fiona, and Ziva—went up to one of the penthouse suites which was filled with various wedding dressed of all sizes and colors.

Vicki went to a bag sitting on the bed and after setting up some equipment, she did full visual scans of both brides-to-be. After inputting the data into her laptop computer, she spent almost two hours studying the information and various dress features.

"So what do you think?" Samantha asked again, wondering what the results would be.

Vicki brought up two images on a split-screen and turned the laptop so Fi and Ziva could see.

To Ziva's surprise, her dress was simple. Sleeveless yet off the shoulder and made of a pale blue sheer fabric, the dress fit her curves perfectly but didn't highlight them. In the picture, her hair was pulled up in an on-the-side ponytail, falling down over her left collarbone, the tip of the ponytail ending just above her left breast. "It's beautiful," Ziva said, quietly.

Fiona nodded her agreement, even as she looked at her own dress. The color was unconventional—a very pale green that looked like iced celery—and it was low cut, hugging her bust tightly while the waist was just a hair looser. The skirt was a simple sheath design with a slit up one side going up to her thigh. Fi stared for a moment. It was hard to believe that she actually looked like a bride in the picture, but also that she looked seriously sexy. After a moment, she asked, "How soon can you have the dresses ready?"

"You think I didn't come prepared?" Vicki asked, going to two dress bags and handing them to their respective owners. "This is what I do." She waited while Ziva and Fiona tried on the dresses and studied their reflections in the full length mirror. Looking at Ziva, Vicki smiled. "You're beautiful without any effort at all. Simplicity will allow your husband to see you as you are while allowing his imagination to picture what you look like without the dress."

"He already knows what I look like without the dress," Ziva assured the other woman, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.

But Vicki continued to smile as she said, "A man may see his woman naked a hundred times but he only gets to see her take off her wedding dress once." Looking to Fiona, she noticed that the hunter seemed ever so slightly uncomfortable in her own dress. "Women in wheelchairs are allowed to look sexy," Vicki reminded Fi. "You need to remind your fiancé that you are still a vibrant woman."

Fiona nodded and she looked at Vicki as she asked, "How much do we owe you for the dresses?"

Vicki started to reply but Samantha cut in quickly. "It's on me," she assured Fiona. "Call it a wedding present."

* * *

><p>Ellen, Jo, Bobby, and the NCIS team—including Ducky—arrived late that evening and Tony wasted no time in whisking the Winchesters, Bobby, and McGee away for a bachelor's party.<p>

Jo and Abby decided to hit the Montecito club—Mystique—while Ellen, Ziva, Fiona, Ducky, and Gibbs opted for a quiet dinner in the hotel restaurant.

"You two nervous?" Gibbs asked as he sipped his glass of bourbon and looked from Ziva to Fiona.

"A little," Ziva admitted, as she sipped her glass of champagne. "I honestly never really saw myself getting married." Setting her glass down, she smiled. "Still… I am also excited. I have not been this happy in a long time."

Ducky sipped his scotch before nodding, thoughtfully. "Yes, I had noticed that you seem rather chipper." Putting a hand on Ziva's, he smiled and said, sincerely, "I'm happy for you, my dear."

"Thank you, Ducky," Ziva replied, toasting the NCIS medical examiner.

"I just have to say," Gibbs said, looking at Fiona, his eyes filled with love and pride. "If James were here, he'd be proud of you."

Fiona felt the tears well up in her eyes and she gave her godfather a nod as she said, "I wish he could be here to see me getting married." She sniffed a bit and added, "Dad was always worried about me. Because I was a hunter and a girl… But I like to think that he's watching out for me somehow."

"So when's the big day?" Ellen asked as she finished off her beer just as the waiter brought their dinners.

"This Saturday," Ziva replied, digging into her veal chops. "Fiona and I have our dresses and Sam and Dean took care of the rings."

"Danny promised he'd take care of everything else," Fiona added. "Reception, ceremony… the works." She fell silent for a moment and looked from Gibbs to Ducky. "But if you guys don't mind… do you think you could give Ziva and me away?"

Gibbs said nothing but he smiled warmly at his goddaughter and nodded in confirmation.

Ducky gave Ziva's hand a gentle squeeze and replied, "It would be my honor, Miss David."

* * *

><p>Late that night, GibbsGod summoned Celeste who looked—as usual lately—like she'd come out worst in a fight. He gently touched her cheek and healed the angel's injuries as he said, "You can't let Raphael keep doing this to you."

Celeste ran a hand through her hair and shrugged. "I have my reasons, Father. Believe me, when the time comes… Raphael will get what's coming to him."

God studied his favorite daughter with a touch of surprise. "I never figured you for the vengeance type," he said, quietly. When Celeste didn't say anything, God said, "I need you to go get two people from Heaven for me."

"Who?" Celeste asked, frowning slightly.

But God just smiled to himself as he thought of the surprise he had in store for the Winchesters and Fiona Brendon.

* * *

><p>Saturday arrived and bowing to tradition, Sam and Dean had shared one hotel room while Ziva and Fiona shared the other for the night.<p>

The morning of the double wedding, Dean had been startled awake by the sounds of footsteps in the room. But he wasn't prepared for who he saw standing in the room. "Dad?" Dean said, not sure if he believed his own eyes.

Sam came out of the bathroom when he heard his brother's voice and he, too, looked surprised as Hell to see John Winchester standing in the room.

John saw Sam tense and scan the room for an available weapon and he took a step back, hands up. "It's really me, boys. I promise." When Sam and Dean still looked skeptical, John smiled. He'd taught his sons to be suspicious and not to instantly trust their own eyes. So why was he surprised when they were practicing what he'd taught them? "Celeste brought me down. Just for today, you know? So I could see you two get married to Ziva and Fiona."

Dean was out of bed by now and took a few steps towards his father. "Dad?"

"Yeah," John replied with a nod. "Yeah, it's me."

Dean went up to his dad and before he could even think, he hugged the man, fighting the tears that threatened to escape him. After a while, Dean asked, "So h-how did you…?"

"Celeste brought me back," John explained. "James, too."

"Fiona's dad?" Sam said, sounding a bit surprised at that.

John smiled as he nodded. "Think of it as a wedding present from Heaven."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Montecito chapel was bright and cheery as Ellen, Jo, Bobby, John, James, Abby, Tony, and Tim took their seats. At the front, the priest stood with Dean and Sam who stood in tuxes, waiting for their respective brides.

In the very back row, Celeste, Gabriel, Castiel, and Balthazar sat watching the others while Danny McCoy, Samantha Marquez-Manning, and Danny's wife, Delinda, stood along the back wall.

As John Winchester watched his sons, he couldn't believe how much they had grown. He still remembered when Dean was just a happy 4-year-old wanting to be exactly like his daddy. And Sam… John felt guilt stab at him as he thought of all the ways he mishandled the way he raised Sam. Hell, both Sam _and_ Dean. Those boys should have grown up happy, not being dragged all over the country by him.

Next to John, James Brendon tried not to think of all the way he'd screwed up over the years. Never mind that he got killed by a demon using a little girl as a meat suit. No, today was about Fiona and James wished he hadn't left things with his daughter the way he did all those years ago. Because maybe if he'd done things differently, Jethro would be sitting where he sat and James would be walking his daughter down the aisle.

After a moment, the music started playing—'Bless the Broken Road' by Rascal Flatts—as the main doors opened and Fiona and Ziva came down the aisle accompanied by Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard and Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

After joining their respective Winchesters, Ziva and Fiona waited for the priest to begin the ceremony.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family," the priest began, warmly. "We are gathered here today to join Fiona Brendon and Sam Winchester as well as Ziva David and Dean Winchester in holy matrimony." With that, the priest nodded to the couples, indicating that they should recite their vows.

As Sam held Fiona's hands in his, he felt something odd. It was some powerful essence that seemed to flow from Fi and settle somewhere deep inside him. As he looked into her eyes, Sam felt the words coming to him. "Fiona, I've loved you ever since I was a kid. You were always this… this superhero princess to me." Sam blushed as he felt his brother giving him a bewildered look. "I know now that that's not the truth and I know that you and I are both monumentally screwed up because of everything we've been through… But I also know that the only time in my life that things seem right in when I'm with you. And I now that we're together, I never want to let you go again."

Fiona looked up at Sam and she was surprised when what she saw in his eyes was the love and affection she'd last seen right before Sam had jumped into the Pit. After a moment, she said, "There have been so many times that I wonder if this whole crazy, stupid, crappy life is worth it. But every time I'm with you… you somehow get me to believe that it's not all bad. I've tried living my life without you, Sam. And it sucks. I never want to be without you again."

For a few moments, Dean couldn't say anything as he found himself lost in Ziva's eyes. Those beautiful, brown eyes that had been the only thing to keep him sane the past two years. Eventually, Dean found his voice. "You know, for the past—I don't even know how many years—there's been this… this empty hole inside me. I kept trying to fill it, but it was still there. Until I met you. Ziva, before I met you I was so broken, you can't even imagine… And for almost two years you've been one of the few things that keeps me from drowning in alcohol and my own despair. I don't know if I could have made it without you… but I never want to find out."

Ziva David had never been very comfortable expressing her feelings. It just seemed like whenever she tried, she could never articulate precisely what she meant to say. But today, she wanted Dean to know just how she felt about him. "It has been a long time since I have had something that is just mine. Something that I found all on my own. With you, Dean, I don't have to try and be the proper NCIS agent or the Mossad officer… I can just be myself… whatever that happens to be at the moment. You…" Ziva's voice caught a bit and as she let herself get lost in Dean's hazel eyes, she took a breath and went on. "I have always wanted something permanent. Something that I can hold onto… something I can depend on. Aside from Gibbs, you have been one of the few constants in my life. I love you, Dean. It has taken me a long time to really accept that. To realize that you are a good man."

As Gibbs watched the two couple exchange rings, he had a sudden mental image of three other weddings—his own to Shannon, John's wedding as he and Mary said 'I do', and James' shotgun wedding to Chase. Gibbs smiled as Ziva and Dean kissed and Sam swept Fiona up in his arms, actually spinning her around once before kissing her, Fi's arms wrapped around her husband's neck.

xxxxx

There was a small reception set up in the Montecito's rooftop restaurant along with a wedding cake which was made to look exactly like the Impala.

"I had a pastry chef friend of mine design the cake," Delinda McCoy piped up as she saw Dean admiring the cake. "What do you think?"

"It's awesome," Dean replied, smiling. He almost hated to cut into it, but he finally cut into the rear of the car as Fiona, Sam, and Ziva gathered around for the first official wedding picture.

While Dean and Ziva shared their first dance as a married couple, Fiona borrowed Abby's camera for a moment and wheeled over to where Gibbs was standing with James and John. "Hey," Fi said, making the three men look up. "How about a picture?"

Gibbs smiled and after a moment, John and James grinned as well. After Fiona took the picture, James took the camera and handed it to John before silently leading his daughter to a quiet corner table.

James sat down so he could look her straight on in the eyes and when Fiona looked like she was going to ask what was going on, he said, "I am so proud of you, Fiona." James took his daughter's hands in his and added, "And I am so sorry I never told you all those years ago. When you told me you were joining the Marines, I was so scared. Monsters, demons… that's a whole different pile of crap than _humans_ who want to kill you. But you never faltered and no matter how tough or bad it got, you didn't give up. You kept going back. So I'm proud of you. And I wish I'd said that instead of fighting with you for so long."

Fiona couldn't say anything but finally, she and her father leaned towards one another and embraced in a warm hug.

x

As he watched James and Fiona, John thought of everything that had happened over the past 28 years and even more so of everything that had happened the past three years. Looking at Gibbs, he said, "Thanks, Jethro. For keeping an eye on everyone."

Gibbs smiled and as he thought about the being that was using him as a vessel, he said, "They're in good hands, John."

"I know that," John replied, nodding. After a moment, he gave his old friend a knowing nod, saying that he knew more than Gibbs was saying out loud.

x

After a while, Sam, Dean, Fiona, and Ziva called everyone over to the main table and Dean picked up his champagne flute and said, "Uh, thank you all for being here today. Not just from me, but from Fi, Ziva, and Sammy as well. It, uh… It means a lot to us, so… thanks."

Sam laughed at his brother's expression but still toasted along with everyone else before he raised his own glass and said, "Like Dean said, thank you all for being here. I couldn't imagine being happier than I am right now."

Tony went next and Ziva felt just the slighted twinge of worry at what he might say. "For the longest time I was jealous of Dean for being with Ziva. I'd ask her—and myself—what Dean Winchester had that I didn't." Tony looked at the group and finally settled his gaze on Dean and Ziva. "But now I understand that it's more what they both have. They have a chemistry and a connection that's more than I could ever dream of having with someone." Tony raised his glass and said, "To Dean and Ziva."

After Ducky gave his own toast, Fiona looked at her family and friends and her eyes settled on Gibbs. "If it weren't for Leroy Jethro Gibbs, none of us would be here together. My dad would never have been friends with John Winchester and I might never have met Sam and Dean might never have met Ziva."

"And without Gibbs I would not be here at all," Ziva pointed out. "He has saved my butt on more occasions than I can count."

As the toasts and party continued, Gibbs was slightly distracted by God's warm laughter. _"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"_ Gibbs said to himself.

God chuckled again as he said, _"You have no idea."_


	8. Merry Christmas From the Family

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I'd planned on posting this on Christmas Day but I ended up following my family's excellent example and napped on the couch instead.

I know I did my 'Twas the Night Before Christmas' parody, but this is the REAL Christmas chapter for this story. I wanted to include some perspective stories from some of the characters as well as Gabriel's take on the first Christmas.

(BTW, I apologize in advance for that snippet. Religion's not exactly a strong thing with me, so if I sound flippant, I'm sorry.)

The title of this chapter is taken from the song of the same title by Montgomery Gentry.

* * *

><p><em>Merry Christmas From the Family<em>

* * *

><p>The sunlight pouring through the window of the upstairs guest bedroom of Bobby's house in Sioux Falls hit Dean square in the face. It seemed even brighter outside than normal due to the snow that had started last night and seemed to be still falling this morning. Without even opening his eyes, Dean rolled over, finally looking up when he felt his face pressed against something other than his pillow.<p>

Ziva was still asleep, her dark brown—almost black—hair falling over her shoulders. One hand was tucked under her pillow and Dean knew that her fingers were likely brushing the handle of either her gun or a knife.

Even after two months, Dean still couldn't believe that he was married to this incredible woman. It seemed like a dream out of someone else's life. Every day, he expected to wake up and find that this had all been some cruel dream.

After a while, he carefully got out of bed, leaving Ziva still sleeping as he got dressed and headed downstairs where Ellen was making coffee and breakfast while Bobby fielded some early morning calls since supernatural activity didn't seem to break for the holidays. "Hey," Dean said in greeting as he looked around, looking surprised that it was just the three of them so far. "Where's Sammy and Fi?"

"I thought they were staying at the motel," Ellen said, as she started cooking eggs on the stove. "You know, since Celeste got Fiona back on her feet again."

"Yeah," Dean replied, rubbing his brow distractedly. "I just thought they'd be here by now."

Ellen paused when she heard Dean's tone and killed the heat on the frying pan before turning to the older Winchester. "You okay, sweetie?" She asked, watching Dean closely eyes full of motherly concern.

"Yeah," Dean assured her with a nod and a smile. "I'm good. I'm just worried about… about Sammy driving in the snow." He knew the explanation sounded lame, but he didn't care.

But as Dean had expected, Ellen wasn't fooled and after a moment, as she laid out breakfast, she asked, "So what's really going on?"

Dean laughed at how perceptive Ellen Harvelle-Singer was. He should have known better than to try to fool her. "I just… I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"Come again?" Bobby said, frowning slightly in confusion as he sipped his coffee.

Dean sighed and sat down at the dining room table, leaning back in his chair. "Sammy's finally married to the girl he's loved all his life. You and Ellen are happily married… Jo's dating that McGee guy from NCIS…" he looked down at the wedding band on his left hand. "I just can't help but wonder if this is all some elaborate dream or… or a trick."

"Oh, please!" Gabriel said with a grin as he suddenly appeared sitting at the table. Giving Dean a look, he said, "I may be a Trickster, but I'm not _this_ good." After a moment, he added, "Might want to get the door."

Ellen, Bobby, and Dean all exchanged looks and then turned to the front door when they heard knocking. Bobby got up from the table and after getting the door, came back followed by Sam and Fiona whose faces were red with cold.

"You started breakfast without us?" Fiona asked as she removed her coat, scarf, and gloves. "I mean, yeah, Sam and I were up all night making wild, passionate love, but come on! It's almost Christmas."

"Which reminds me," Ziva said as she came down the stairs. "Gibbs asked if we wanted to spend Christmas at his place."

"You know, I never get tired of you humans making such a big deal about something that didn't even take place in December," Gabriel said in amusement. When he noticed the others looked genuinely curious, he leaned back in his chair and grinned. "Well, it's a really long story but there's a lot of things you guys got wrong."

"Such as?" Bobby asked, his interest piqued.

Gabriel thought for a second and finally said, "Well, for starters… Joseph wasn't very accepting to his wife getting knocked up by God. I mean he was ready to kill me."

"Can't imagine why," Dean scoffed.

"So if I told you that I was carrying the child of God…?" Ziva prompted, looking at her husband.

"Then I'd clock God one for getting you pregnant before I could," Dean replied, quickly shutting his mouth as he realized what he'd just said.

But Ziva heard the unspoken words in that statement and after a while, she said, "So… You do want to have children with me?"

Dean hesitated only a millisecond, but he nodded. "Yeah… Yeah, a couple kids might be nice someday."

"You two start a family," Fiona said, with a mischievous smirk. "—and you're gonna have to find your own place to live."

* * *

><p>Washington, DC was sparkling with freshly fallen snow when the Impala pulled into the driveway of Fiona's townhouse, Bobby's car following behind.<p>

As Dean put his beloved car in park, he couldn't help thinking about Christmas in general. There were so many years where the holidays were spent in rundown motel rooms and so very few actual positive memories of Christmas.

Especially of Christmases spent with family, Dean realized as he got out of the car followed by Ziva, Fiona, and Sam.

Once inside, Ziva started making dinner and Sam helped Bobby lug in the presents from the back of Bobby's pick-up truck while Ellen and Jo started baking.

In the living room, Dean pulled out the photo album Jo had given Sam for his birthday about two years ago and flipped through, pausing at a picture taken 20 years ago in Broken Bow, Nebraska.

* * *

><p><em>Broken Bow, Nebraska<em>

_1991_

Dean looked out the window of the motel room at the falling snow as he tried to avoid thinking of where his dad was.

John Winchester had gone out a week ago to do battle with some monster but had promised that he would be there for Christmas.

But Dean knew better than to believe anything his dad said these days. What made him feel worse was that he knew that Sammy was counting on their father being home and it would break the kid's heart when Dad didn't show up as promised.

"Who's the present for?" Dean asked as he glanced over at his little brother who was wrapping something in last Sunday's comics.

"It's for Dad," Sam replied as he worked on taping up the gift. "Uncle Bobby gave it to me to give to him," he added, anticipating the question of 'where'd you get the money?'. He knew Dean was worried about their dad actually showing up for Christmas but Dean had promised and Sammy trusted his brother. "Dean… Dad IS coming, right? For Christmas?"

"Of course he is," Dean assured him, even though the promise was an empty one. But as he watched his brother, he could see the usual 20 questions formulating in Sam's head and Dean didn't feel like running through the usual series of lies. "I'm gonna go out for a bit, okay? Keep the door locked," Dean added, grabbing half of the last bit of money John had left them.

As soon as the door closed and locked, Sam hastily finished up wrapping the gift for Dad and went to the beds and started snooping. He wanted real, straight answers and if his father wasn't going to give them to him, he'd find them for himself.

xxxxxx

Getting back from the convenience store, Dean chalked this Christmas up as one of the worst he could remember.

Sam knew about monsters and after a strained conversation with Dean ended up crying himself to sleep while Dean cursed the fact that his little brother now knew what was really out there lurking in the dark.

When he was sure that Sam was sound asleep, Dean pulled his jacket on and slipped outside. After locking the door behind him, he stood on the sidewalk studying the other rooms nearby. He would give his little brother the best Christmas ever no matter what he had to do. Dean started down the street, trying to find an easy mark to lift some presents, when he heard a car rumble up behind him.

Turning, Dean stopped when he saw an old Ford pick-up and the teenage girl behind the wheel.

"Shouldn't you be in bed waiting for Santa?" 18-year-old Fiona Brendon said with a smile after she rolled down the passenger-side window.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked, surprised. The last time he'd seen his best friend she'd run out on her 18th birthday party after telling her father she was joining the Marines.

"Thought I'd surprise you for Christmas," Fiona replied. "Hop in."

Dean hesitated. Not because of accepting the ride, but because he hadn't yet found some house that could spare a few gifts. "Look, Fiver…" But he stopped after letting the nickname slip as he saw Fiona's expression turn sad. "Dad's not gonna be home for Christmas. He promised, but…"

Fiona nodded again and smiled. "Come on, Bigwig. I've got your back."

After a while, Dean smiled back and got into the car and rolled up the window and Fiona turned around and headed back to the motel.

xxxxx

Christmas morning, Dean let Sammy sleep in late before finally shaking his little brother's shoulder to wake him. "Rise and shine, Sammy," Dean said brightly. But when he saw that Sam had noticed that their dad wasn't around, he sighed. He didn't want to lie to Sam, but he didn't want him to know the truth either. Deciding to go with the lesser of two evils, Dean explained. "James got hurt real bad while he was helping Dad. Dad's staying with him in the hospital in Omaha until Fiona can get there."

"I thought she was with the Marines," Sam said, frowning slightly. But seeing the look on his brother's face he—for once—decided to leave the matter alone. Getting up, he was surprised to see a scrubby looking Christmas tree set up by the TV complete with lights and a dollar store star on the top. There were a few hastily wrapped gifts underneath, and the sight actually made Sam smile for a moment before the fact that his dad had lied about being there sank in.

Dean's gifts had been simple—a couple Matchbox cars and a new knife—as had Sam's. Sam had opened up his presents to find a couple books—his own copy of 'Watership Down' and 'Redwall' and 'Mattimeo' by Brian Jacques.

As the two boys started in on the last of the powdered donuts and orange juice left from the day before, Sam pulled out a small package from his bag and held it out to Dean. "Here," Sam said, giving his brother a smile. "Take this."

"No," Dean said, looking at the gift Sam offered. "No, that's for Dad."

"Dad lied to me," Sam insisted. "I want you to have it." He didn't add that he thought that his brother would like the gift more.

"You sure?" Dean said, hesitantly. It felt like one more way that Dean was taking something from his father. Already, Dean had acted like a parent with Sam a dozen times—teaching Sam to walk, to talk… to ride a bike… And this would have been the first time that Sam would have actually given his dad a Christmas gift that hadn't been pilfered from some dollar store.

"I'm sure," Sam pressed again. Besides, Dad being gone wasn't so bad. But Sam couldn't imagine life without his brother.

Dean took the package and opened it, looking at the gold amulet on a leather cord. He rolled it around in his hand and finally said, "Thank you, Sam. I… I love it." He didn't say anything else as he put the amulet around his neck and gave his little brother a warm smile.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

After dinner, everyone just seemed to relax while Sam and Bobby cleaned up the kitchen and Dean cleared the table.

Sitting in the living room, Fiona thought about how lucky she was to be here in DC and spending Christmas with her closest family and friends.

It hadn't always been like that. In fact, there had been many years that she'd been overseas with the Marines for the holidays and sometimes she wished more than anything that she could be at home with everyone else.

One Christmas in particular popped up in her mind. It had been a few months after 9/11 and Fiona had been recalled from leave early. All the Marines in her unit had been upset about leaving their families during such a time of emotional upheaval and as Christmas got closer and closer, Fiona had helped organize what she called 'Operation ET Phone Home'. With Gibbs' help back at NCIS, the Marines overseas were able to talk to their families back home on Christmas.

But when it came Fiona's turn to call home, she hadn't known who to call. She still didn't consider herself on real speaking terms with her father, Sam and Dean were God only knew where… Ditto for John Winchester. But to her surprise—although not really as she thought about it later—Gibbs called her the day after Christmas her to say that he hoped she would be home soon and he promised an entirely non-take-out meal as soon as she got stateside again.

"Hey," Sam said, interrupting his wife's musings. "You okay?" he asked, noticing how quiet Fi was.

Fiona nodded as Sam sat down next to her and after a moment, she laid her head against his shoulder. "I love you, Sam," she said, quietly.

"I love you, too," Sam replied, kissing the top of Fiona's head.

Late that night, as they lay together in bed after a few wild, romantic romps, Fiona fell fast asleep while Sam stayed awake, his mind abuzz with thoughts and memories. As he thought about the approaching holiday, he remembered his first Christmas at Stanford.

* * *

><p><em>Stanford University<em>

_Palo Alto, CA_

_Christmas Eve, 2001_

The terrorist attacks in New York back in September seemed to be on everyone's mind as they prepared for Christmas the following day.

Not many students were left on campus, preferring to go home to be with their families. And while Sam Winchester had almost a dozen offers from classmates—most of them girls—to join in on the family meals, Sam had decided to stay in his dorm. Besides, it wasn't like he'd starve. He had some money left from what he'd come to school with and he'd stocked his little dorm fridge with sandwiches made in the cafeteria and empty pop bottles filled with water or juice from the beverage fountains.

But just as Sam had been about to hit the rack, he heard someone knocking lightly at his window—not surprising, since Sam's room was closest to the door on the first floor of the building. Lifting the blinds, he'd expected to see one of the other freshmen who'd locked themselves out since the dorm doors locked for the night around 11.

Instead, Sam's jaw dropped when he saw his brother standing there with a big old grin on his face and a couple stuffed grocery bags in his hands. Lifting the window, Sam stared for a moment before he said, "Dean, what are you doing here?"

"Can't I just come by and say Merry Christmas to my brother?" Dean replied with a grin. Before Sam could reply, Dean handed the bags through the open window. "Hold these, would you, bro?"

Sam did as instructed and set the bags aside on the empty bed on the other side of the room. Thankfully, Sam's roommate had left the day before for a family vacation in Aspen, Colorado. By the time Sam turned back around to ask his brother if he wanted to come in the front door, Dean had already climbed in the window, somehow managing to not to fall over the fridge and microwave which were placed right in front of the window.

"So what are you doing here, Dean?" Sam asked again as he watched Dean pull a few hastily wrapped presents and a small dollar store tree.

Dean paused and finally shrugged. "Dad and I had a… a disagreement. We needed a few days to cool off so I thought I'd spend Christmas with my little brother."

Sam didn't say anything at first, but when he turned on the dorm lights, he saw a bruise forming around Dean's left eye and the bruised knuckles on the older Winchester's right hand. "Disagreement, huh?" Sam replied, waiting until Dean noticed that Sam had seen the bruises. Sam waited a moment and felt a rising sense of guilt as he asked, "How bad was it this time?"

"Dad looks worse," Dean said, simply, before pulling out a carton of eggnog and two cups out of one of the bags. He filled both cups and handed one to Sam as he said, "Merry Christmas, Sammy."

Sam didn't say anything as he took the offered eggnog but he did feel like his holiday just got a little bit brighter.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

_Christmas Eve Morning_

The following morning, as Gibbs looked at the Christmas tree set up in his living room, he felt the usual pangs of sadness as he thought about Shannon and Kelly.

There was so much about Shannon he had loved even before he knew her name. She was smart, sassy, and her brown eyes could go from smiling and playful to making you want to cower in a split second.

As Gibbs had gotten to know the woman who would become his first wife, he found that she helped calm the turmoil that always seemed to be brewing within him. If Gibbs was angry or frustrated, Shannon always seemed to know just the right thing to say to cool off the hot-headed Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

With Kelly, though, it was different. When his little girl was happy, Gibbs was happy. When she cried, he cried. And when Kelly had first tried to ride a bike when she 5 and fell off, scraping her knees and breaking her wrist, Gibbs felt every twinge of pain as he sat with his daughter in the emergency room.

And then there had been the days when Gibbs had to leave on another tour with the Marines. Those days were hard on Shannon as well, but for Kelly, watching her daddy leave was the worst thing in her whole entire world.

Gibbs went over to the fireplace mantle and picked up the last Christmas photo he had of his family. It was simply Gibbs, Shannon, and Kelly sitting on the couch with the Christmas tree in the background.

The photo had been taken by James Brendon who had actually shown up for once. Shannon had always extended an open invitation to both the Winchesters and the Brendons to spend Christmas together but usually John and James were busy on hunts and couldn't stay.

But the Christmas before his girls were murdered, John Winchester and James Brendon had finally been able to come for the holiday, bringing Sam, Dean, and Fiona with them. It had been a wonderful time and Shannon had had her hands full with the two Winchester boys and Kelly. Fiona had actually enjoyed being mothered a bit and the two even went clothes shopping since Kelly preferred looking for clothes with Gibbs.

That week had been one of the best of his life and Gibbs had never forgotten how good it had felt to have his family and best friends all together for Christmas.

It was those memories that had led Gibbs to inviting the Winchesters over for Christmas. Over the past 4 years, Ziva had become like a daughter to him and Fiona was, of course, his goddaughter.

And then there was simply the fact that Sam and Dean needed a good, old-fashioned vacation away from fighting evil all the time.

But more than anything else, Gibbs had extended the invitation this year for one selfish reason—He was lonely and he wanted to spend at least one Christmas with those he considered family. Maybe it was spending more than a year and a half as God's vessel, but Gibbs needed to be with friends and family this year.

* * *

><p><em>The First Christmas<em>

_(Sort of)_

The bible and history books did have part of the story right—Mary _had_ been a virgin when she became pregnant and the strain of the journey to Bethlehem _had_ triggered the birth of her child.

But that birth had taken place—not in late December—but rather early November.

It's also incorrect that the archangel, Gabriel, was alone when delivering the news to Joseph and Mary as well at to the three wise men. There had been a second angel present, a brash, younger angel named Balthazar who seemed to be a bit annoyed that his older brother had roped him into helping with what was clearly a one-angel mission.

The three wise men—who fancied themselves as men of 'science'—were suspicious of the news that a virgin had borne the son of God. How could a _virgin_ suddenly carry a child? How did the angels know that it was truly the work of God? And for that matter, how could the men be certain that the beings delivering the message were in fact angels of the Lord?

Balthazar demonstrated less patience than his brother and quickly displayed his wings. Gabriel, however, simply snapped his fingers and transported the doubting wise men to the barn where Mary and Joseph's new baby boy was asleep in a feed bin, wrapped in an old cloak of Mary's.

One of the wise men pulled several pieces of frankincense out of a pocket of his robes and with several lengths of string, tied the items to a broken wagon wheel he spotted in the corner while one of his companions did the same with chunks of myrrh. The two men then suspended the new device from the lowest part of the ceiling, directly above the sleeping baby, using a series of special knots so that—with a small push—the wheel would turn and twist the frankincense and myrrh about.

The third wise man looked from the new parents to the sleeping baby and wondered how the three of them would possible survive. The new family didn't exactly seem impoverished, but they looked far from wealthy. Withdrawing his last bag of gold, the third man handed the money to Mary who at first refused to accept the gift.

But the third wise man was insistent. "If your son is indeed the child of God and is meant to be our Savior, then this is the very least I can offer you and your family," he told Mary.

It was a gesture that even the angels found touching. Perhaps this child already had the power to save mankind.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>

_Christmas Morning_

Everyone got to Gibbs house early that morning. Abby and Ducky had been the first to arrive since both had been up for a good portion of the night wrapping presents. Celeste, Gabriel, Castiel, and Balthazar had shown up next and had proceeded to help with breakfast, getting everything ready just as Bobby, Ellen, and Jo arrived followed by the Winchesters.

Gifts were piled under the tree and Gibbs and Bobby poured coffee for everyone just as Tony and McGee came in, adding their presents to the already overflowing pile.

While everyone ate breakfast ad talked, Ziva couldn't help marveling at how different things seemed from last year.

Since both Dean and Fiona believed that Sam was dead, both had been withdrawn the week leading up to Christmas and on Christmas morning, both had displayed no interest in the presents. Dean, in fact, had barely downed his first cup of coffee before muttering something about a haunting in Pennsylvania he needed to take care of.

But this year, Dean and Sam were laughing at a joke Tony had shared while Fiona and Ellen talked about the newlywed life.

Looking around the dining room table, Ziva smiled as she enjoyed the warm, comforting glow of being with friends and family. There was also a strange sense of peace and inner calm that had been growing inside her over the past few weeks. It was like suddenly everything seemed to be falling into place and she was finally living the life she was meant to.

When everyone had finished eating and had gathered in the living room, Ducky, Abby, and McGee started handing out presents to the others.

Everyone took turns opening gifts and thanking their family and friends.

Dean had given Bobby and Ellen two tickets for a two-week couples cruise which had made Jo laugh because she didn't think her mom and Bobby could actually kick back and relax that long.

Fiona's gift to Ziva and Dean had at first drawn confused looks as dean had unwrapped a brand new key on a ring. "The townhouse a few doors down from mine just went on sale," Fi explained. "It's all yours."

"We cannot accept this," Ziva insisted, quickly. "I-I…" But Fiona's expression was one of resolution and as Dean gave his best friend a simple 'are you sure?' look, Fiona nodded.

Abby had given Jo a silver charm bracelet with the clasp made out of spent bullets and Ellen had received a pair of stud earrings made of old 9mm rounds.

But for Gibbs, the best gift he received was from Gabriel of all people—a framed picture of himself with Shannon and Kelly as they sat on the couch with the Christmas tree in the background. Kelly was about 5 and looked ecstatic at the brand new bike she'd gotten that morning.

Once again, Gibbs thought about asking God to bring back his first wife and daughter. It was what he wanted more than anything and all it would take was one word from the Heavenly Host to make that wish come true. But Gibbs would never fully make that wish, no matter how much it hurt not to.

Looking at the others, Gibbs knew that this was the family he was meant to have now. And he would feel like he was tossing them aside if he had Shannon and Kelly back. It would be like telling his team and Fiona that they weren't enough family for him.

"_Say the word, Gibbs,"_ God said, quietly, as he took in the room full of people. _"They won't mind. They know how much you miss your wife and daughter and would be more than willing to let you have that happiness back."_

But Gibbs wouldn't go there. He knew that God was right, but it would never be the same. Besides, if it hadn't been for Shannon and Kelly's murders, Gibbs would never have joined NCIS… would never have met his team, and might never have started to fill the desire he'd always had for a big family. Shannon had been happy with just Kelly but Gibbs had always wanted a crowd of kids.

x

While everyone else talked in the living room, Gibbs and Bobby went into the kitchen for a moment.

"You ever think about getting married again?" Bobby asked, cuiously. He'd seen the way Gibbs had looked at the other couples in the living room and it didn't take a genius to see that Gibbs missed having someone special in his life.

"Sometimes," Gibbs admitted. "Tried 3 times after my first wife and daughter died."

"Yeah," Bobby sighed, hearing what Gibbs wasn't saying. "Yeah, I've been there, too."

Gibbs started a fresh pot of coffee since Tony and Dean had drained the last pot and went on, "Shannon was the only girl I ever really loved. And Kelly… she was my whole world."

Bobby thought back to the fight he'd had with his first wife, Karen, before she'd gotten possessed by a demon. Karen had wanted kids but Bobby, whose dad had been a mean drunk, didn't want them. It was funny that now he now had four—Jo who was actually his stepdaughter, and Sam, Dean, and Fiona whom he'd all but adopted as his own. "You ever wish you could go back?" Bobby asked, a thought popping into his head. "Do things different?"

Gibbs took a moment to ponder the question but he finally shook his head. "No," he replied simply. When Bobby gave him a puzzled look, Gibbs just nodded in the direction of the living room. "Sometimes, the rewards are worth the cost."

Bobby nodded in agreement as the coffeemaker started brewing again. He couldn't really argue with that.


	9. The French Mistake

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So I started work on how to write this chapter when I had the brilliant idea to write it from the POV of the angels—specifically Balthazar and Celeste. We get to see more into Celeste's plan as well as a little romance.

To fellow writer and loyal reviewer deanstheman, there's a surprise for you near the end of the chapter. Hope you like!

Also, please refrain from mentioning the recent episode 'Adventures in Babysitting' in reviews unless you want to set me off on yet another rant about this current season. Seriously, no other TV show has EVER gotten me fired up like Supernatural has!

* * *

><p><em>The French Mistake<em>

* * *

><p>"I'd like to go on record as saying that this is the worst idea I've ever heard in all of my existence," Balthazar said as he and Celeste hid in Gibbs' basement for a moment to catch their breath.<p>

The two had been on the run for the past 12 hours—ever since Raphael had sent his own personal hit squad after the two angels—and there had been too many close calls. Both angels were tired, beat, and—in the case of Balthazar—bleeding. Thankfully, the home of Leroy Jethro Gibbs continued to be off the angel radar to everyone except Celeste, Castiel, Gabriel, and Balthazar making it the perfect safe haven for the four celestiel beings.

"Yeah, I heard you the first 50,000 times, Balthazar," Celeste snapped, irritably, as she leaned against the workbench in the middle of the room. "But it's my plan and I say we stick with it." She pulled back the jacket her brother angel wore, exposing a stab wound and winced at how deep the wound looked. "Okay… You go take care of the Winchesters—and don't forget about Ziva and Fiona. And try not to get stabbed again. This time was way too close."

"Well, better me than you," Balthazar snapped back. But as he looked at Celeste he realized what his sister angel was saying and he stared at her in disbelief. "If you think I'm going to leave you here alone, you're mental," he said, looking scared. "I'm expendable. You're not. If Raphael finds you here…"

"Just get the others out of here," Celeste insisted as she withdrew her sword. "I'll be fine. Promise," she added with a smile that didn't seem entirely reassuring.

"If we make it out of this alive," Balthazar said as he took the key Celeste held out. "—you owe me big."

Celeste didn't reply but when Balthazar left, she sank to the floor, back against the workbench. She was tired and she immediately wished that she wasn't alone. But time was of the essence and she couldn't wait just because she needed someone's hand to hold.

The plan had been so simple at first—while Celeste kept Raphael busy, thinking _she_ was the mastermind behind her side of the battle for control of Heaven, Castiel would be free to really lead their armies.

And then Raphael had resorted to physically hurting her so she would talk about the plan—something she took advantage of by offering herself up as bait to keep the archangel from Balthazar and Castiel.

It had always been hard for Celeste in Heaven. After the first few fights between Michael and Lucifer, God had created her to help keep the peace between the angels. But the two archangels continued to quarrel and when Michael cast his brother into the Cage in Hell, heaven became suddenly split in two between Lucifer's supporters and Michael's.

Over the years, Celeste had stopped coming up to Heaven and preferred spending her time down on Earth. People seemed to listen to her more and many were more than willing to follow what they considered 'the will of God'.

And then she'd been tricked.

Zachariah, who had never liked her even when she did stay Upstairs, had summoned her saying that someone was killing off the archangels including Michael, Raguel, and Gabriel.

Once Celeste was up in Heaven she found that while Gabriel had gone missing, he wasn't dead and when she tried to go back to Earth, she found that her grace was bound to Zachariah.

Hearing footsteps on the basement stairs, Celeste was startled out of her reverie and swiftly got to her feet while pulling out her sword.

"Easy, tiger," Tony DiNozzo said as he came down the stairs. "Gibbs sent me." He studied Celeste for a while and noticing how edgy she looked, he asked, "Are you okay?"

"No," Celeste snapped, irritably as she put her sword away. "I've got an archangel after me, one brother going to keep the Winchester boys and their respective wives out of danger, another going to gather up a shitload of hidden angelic weapons, and another brother keeping said archangel on a wild goose chase to keep him away from me. Which is why I'm hiding in the basement of the man who happens to be the vessel of God himself!"

Tony paused for a moment, but before he could respond to the angel's explosion, one small part of her words kept getting louder and louder. "God's vessel? God? Like THE God? Like your boss, God?"

"Duh," Celeste snapped again as she paced the basement floor. "He's only been down here for, like… 18 years. And you've been around him for about half that time."

Tony frowned at that and tried to run through his mental list of who he'd been in contact with that could have been GOD. It was crazy! He laughed at the idea. "Okay, you're pulling my leg, right? Because, it's crazy. God is hanging around and he's pretending to be someone I know?"

The angel was tempted to get even snippier with the NCIS Special Agent, but stopped as she had a sudden dawning realization and it made her burst out laughing.

"See, I _knew_ you were just winding me up!" Tony laughed, watching Celeste as she sank to the floor, still laughing as well.

"It's Gibbs!" Celeste burst out before trying to calm down.

Tony's laughter died almost instantly and his expression shifted to one of wide-eyed disbelief and astonishment as he said, "Come again?"

"Gibbs," Celeste said again after taking a few deep breaths to stop laughing. "Gibbs is God's vessel."

Tony just stood there for a while, dumbstruck by the idea that he'd literally been working for God. "I, uh… Wow."

"You really didn't know?" the angel said, looking surprised.

"That my boss was possessed by God?" Tony said, laughing again. "How would I possibly know something like that?" But when he saw that Celeste was trying not to start laughing again, Tony just let out a deep sigh. "Now I know why you like hanging out here so much."

Celeste got to her feet and after poking around the workbench came up with a half empty bottle of bourbon and two mugs. She poured herself and Tony a drink and the two sat on the sawhorses and just sipped the amber liquor for a few minutes.

"So how long are you camping out here?" Tony asked as he finished off his bourbon and poured himself more. He held up the bottle at Celeste who tossed back the rest of her own drink before holding out her mug for Tony to refill.

Celeste shrugged and sipped her drink before replying. "I don't know. Until Castiel or Balthazar gives me the all clear, I guess," she said, uncertainly. She played with her glass for a while before setting it on the workbench and giving Tony a sincere smile. "Thanks for coming, Tony. I needed the company."

"Well, there's nothing I enjoy more than spending an afternoon or possibly longer with a beautiful woman," Tony replied with a smile in return.

But the angel was no fool and she smiled at Tony over her mug as she sipped her drink. "Oh, really? So you're not interested in anything else with me?"

Tony took both mugs and set them down on the workbench before pulling Celeste to him. "I'm always interested," he said, quietly before kissing the angel. His mind was screaming at him that this was likely a bad idea in a thousand different ways, but for right now Tony decided to let his baser instincts take over.

Not that Celeste was complaining as Tony's hands slid underneath her shirt to pull it off before unhooking her bra. On the contrary, she took her time undoing Tony's pants, letting every touch against his bare skin linger. It had been so long since she'd had sex and Celeste could feel her vessel almost trembling with anticipation.

* * *

><p>Balthazar was relieved that at least his near-fatal stab wound was healing okay. Sure, it still hurt like… well, like being stabbed by an angel blade. And thankfully, Sam, Dean, Fiona, and Ziva were well out of range and concealed in one of the many alternate universes that angels had access to. Best of all—thanks to a few handy dandy little trinkets from Gabriel—Raphael and his pit bull, Virgil, wouldn't be able to track exactly where the Winchesters and their wives were.<p>

That just left Balthazar and Castiel to find all the angelic weapons which the older angel had hid all over creation—not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. There was a very long list of weapons and miscellaneous trinkets Balthazar had accumulated and as he went around gathering up his prizes, he realized that he really _should have _made a list of everything as he kept thinking of items he'd forgotten that he'd swiped.

Of course, Castiel was also having his share of problems. He had his own list of heavenly weapons to find and an army of Raphael's cronies to avoid.

As much as Balthazar hated admitting it, he was afraid for his brothers. Cas was always getting in over his head and he had a loyal streak a mile wide which meant that he would follow whatever orders he was given even they went against something he knew to be the right thing.

And then there was Gabriel. When the archangel bailed on Heaven, Balthazar couldn't help but admire him. He'd just left. No good-bye, no explanation, no nothing—just packed up and skipped town before carving out his own little corner of the world as a Trickster and delving into everything the human world had to offer. It was, in fact, Gabriel who had influenced Balthazar's actions once he'd also left Heaven.

"Have you found the rest of the weapons yet?" Castiel asked as he suddenly appeared before his brother. Like Balthazar, he carried a large canvas bag which was filled to bursting with various heavenly items.

"Unless there's something I've forgotten," Balthazar replied, hefting his own bag before handing it to Castiel. He looked worried as he asked, "What now, Cas?"

"Go back to Celeste," Castiel ordered as he took both bags. "Raphael will be after her shortly. I will work on retrieving the Winchesters." He frowned for a moment and then asked, "Where did you send them, anyway?"

Balthazar grinned devilishly. "Well, I needed a location that would also render Virgil—and any other angels Raphael sends—completely powerless. So I sent your pets to a charming little universe where they are actors on a television show called 'Supernatural' where they play… themselves."

"Come again?" Castiel asked, a perplexed look on his face.

The other angel chuckled and explained. "The TV show centers on the adventures of Sam and Dean Winchester as they tour about the country fighting angels, demons, and monsters. And for added entertainment, Sam and Dean are _not_ married to dear Fiona and the lovely Ziva, but rather to Genevieve Cortese and Katie Cassidy, both of whom have portrayed the demon, Ruby."

Castiel was still frowning at that as he asked, "Why would you send them there?"

"Well, you see, it was either there, or the universe where they were the helpless slaves of two fan fiction writers of the pennames 'deanstheman' and something called 'The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien," Balthazar replied, with an uncontrolled shiver at the prospect. "And honestly, I think the two ladies might have included you and I in their fun and games."

"What is a Lilac Elf?" Castiel asked, not sure that he really wanted to know.

But Balthazar just shrugged. "Apparently, it's a fangirl who dreams of a romantic entanglement with Sam Winchester who also happens to be a phenomenal cook and rather obsessed with an internet celebrity known as the Nostalgia Critic." Waving a hand dismissively, he added, "But returning to the subject at hand—I'll meet you in the morning at Gibbs' basement, then?"

"Yes," Castiel agreed before winging out.

* * *

><p>Lying on the floor of Gibbs' basement underneath an old blanket, her clothes tossed about, Celeste felt better than she'd had in years. Tony was gone but she could hear him moving around upstairs. Just as she finished getting dressed, she heard wings behind her and whirled about and found herself face to face with Raphael who wasted no time in throwing her into the nearest wall.<p>

"I warned you before," the archangel said, coldly as he withdrew his sword and pointed it at Celeste. "But you didn't listen. And now you will pay the price."

But before Raphael could make good on his threat—before he even knew what was happening—he suddenly found himself lying on his back on the ground with his own sword pointing at his throat.

Celeste's eyes were filled with cold rage as she kept the archangel pinned down with one foot on his chest. "Actually, _you're _the one who's gonna pay, Raphael," she said with a scary amount of calm. "That poor, helpless victim act really worked on you didn't it? Well, your ass is mine now, you dick! Castiel's got the stolen weapons by now and I'm giving you one chance to walk away."

"And if I refuse?" Raphael asked, looking up at the other angel.

"Then you are in for a world of hurt," Balthazar replied as he appeared next to Celeste looking equally angry. "Although, nice touch using the Director of NCIS as a meat suit. Did you enjoy ordering your own Father around?"

Raphael stiffened and didn't even move when Celeste backed off enough to let him get up. "God?"

"Yep," Celeste said with a devilish look. "And he's _really _not happy with what you've been up to lately."

Getting to his feet, Raphael looked from one angel to the other. He knew when he was beaten and didn't like his odds of continued existence if he killed Balthazar and Celeste. "So what now?" He wanted to know as he studied the others. "You kill me?"

"You leave Director Vance _exactly_ how you found him," Celeste snapped as she raised her sword again. "And you rip out your grace. Of course that's _after_ you tell your side to stand down."

Raphael hated being backed into a corner. Of course, he also liked living and right now his only option was to fold. Fine… He'd just wait. It might take a few more millennia, but he'd get the apocalypse back on the rails one way or the other…

* * *

><p>Two days later, Celeste stopped by Dean and Ziva's townhouse and found the hunter in the garage working on the Impala. Leaning against the frame of the garage door, she tentatively knocked and waited until Dean looked up. "Mind if I come in?"<p>

"Sure," Dean muttered. As he watched Celeste come in and lean against the front of the Impala, he said, "Cas told us about your brilliant plan and why you had Balthazar wormhole us out of town."

"I'm not apologizing, Dean," Celeste said, resolutely. "I was trying to keep you guys safe. This was _my_ mess and I didn't want you guys hurt while I cleaned it up."

Dean sighed as he also leaned against the front bumper next to Celeste. "I'm not mad. Okay, I don't get why Sam and I had to be married to _both_ actress who played Ruby… But I get why you did it."

"It's over, Dean," Celeste assured him. "Raphael is dealt with." But as she looked at the older Winchester, she could see that something was troubling him. "What's wrong?"

Dean shook his head and even though he looked like everything was wrong, he still had a strange sort of smile on his face. After a few minutes, he said, "Ziva's pregnant."


	10. HELP ME!

A/N: Okay, just wanted to say thanks for the input on the next chapter! Will be posting the REAL chapter 10 soon!


	11. My Heart Will Go On

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Dear GOD, I swear I didn't know what the HELL to do with this chapter! I had about 5 or 6 different possible endings and no idea which one to go with!

Hope y'all like the chapter!

* * *

><p><em>My Heart Will Go On<em>

* * *

><p>"So how is Mrs. Winchester this morning?" Tony said as he looked across the bullpen at Ziva who seemed somewhat distracted. "Ziva? You okay over there?"<p>

"Yes," Ziva said, looking up at her partner, putting on an expression of calm. "I am fine, Tony," she assured him, seeing that he was still studying her intently. "Just a little tired this morning."

But Tony DiNozzo wasn't fooled by the excuse and after a while, he asked, "So are you and Dean planning on adding any little Winchesters to the line up now that you're married? If you have twins you could name them Smith and Wesson."

"What if the baby is a girl?" Ziva snapped, irritably, although she immediately mentally berated herself for the slip.

"You could always call her Beretta," McGee chimed in with a smile, not noticing the way Ziva looked as she replied to the teasing.

"Wait a second, McGee," Tony said, quickly, looking at Ziva closely. She hadn't entirely blown off the idea and now she was acting a bit twitchy which either meant that she and Dean were trying for kids or they'd already… "Ziva…Is there something you want to tell us?"

McGee caught on quick and looked at Ziva as well who tried to look busy before stopping and looking up at her coworkers.

"Yes," Ziva replied, simply. "I am pregnant."

"Does Gibbs know?" Tony asked, although he had a sneaking suspicion that the senior Special Agent was probably already in the know. Especially since Gibbs was—as far as Tony still knew—the current vessel of God.

"Does Gibbs know what?" Gibbs asked as he entered the squad room holding his usual morning cup of coffee. He looked from Ziva who gave him the very slightest of nods before turning to Tony and McGee as he said, "Grab your gear. We've got a dead Marine out in Reston, Virginia."

Ziva, McGee, and Tony grabbed their gear and guns and followed their boss out of the squad room. In the elevator, Gibbs noticed that Tony seemed somewhat twitchy around him and asked, "Problem, DiNozzo?"

"No, boss," Tony said, quickly, trying not let the word 'smiting' enter his mind.

"Good," Gibbs replied, simply, as he smiled. He couldn't deny that he got a kick out of Tony knowing that he was God. Remembering when Celeste told him about Tony's reaction, Gibbs was still smiling as Tony got behind the wheel of the NCIS truck.

xxxxx

Getting to the crime scene, Ziva stiffened when she saw the black Chevy Impala parked down the street. Without saying a word, she caught Tony and McGee's eyes and nodded at the car.

"Oh, that can't be good," McGee said as he hefted his backpack as he also looked at the car before following the others up to the garage of a very nice ranch-style house.

As the rest of his team went to check out the crime scene, Gibbs hung back and looked around, trying to see where Sam, Dean, and Fiona might be. He had also noticed the '67 Chevy Impala and wondered what they were dealing with this time around.

But when the main garage door opened, he only saw the Winchester boys who were already crouched next to the body although thankfully this time they were wearing gloves. The Winchesters looked caught off guard at the appearance of NCIS, but they quickly covered from the shock and resumed examination of the body.

"Ahhh…" Ducky said as he and Palmer got out of the medical examiner's van. "I see we have company," he added, taking in the car and the two hunters dressed in identical suits. Looking at Gibbs, Ducky asked, "Did you call them en route, Jethro?"

"Here when we got here, Duck," Gibbs replied as he pulled out his camera and started talking pictures. "Haven't had a chance to chat yet."

"You might also want to let the lads know about the proper dress code for NCIS crime scenes. Lest they try to fool the wrong federal agents," Ducky added as he and Palmer headed into the garage. "Morning, all!" he said, brightly as he looked at the Marine who had been nearly decapitated by his garage door. "I've never seen a decapitation by garage door before. Very interesting."

"Yeah, that's one word for it," Dean muttered as he stood up, pulling his gloves off and shoving them in his pocket. "Personally, I would have gone with 'fucking weird'."

Ducky frowned disapprovingly at Dean's language but didn't say anything as he took a liver temperature. After a moment or two, however, he asked, "So what was our poor Marine involved in?" Looking up at Sam and Dean and seeing their confused looks, Ducky clarified, "If the two of you are here, that would indicate that this man was involved in something paranormal, am I right?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed, quickly, as he got rid of his own gloves. "We just have no idea as to what."

"No EMF means no ghosts, no sulpher means no demons, and no hexbags or curse objects means no witches," Dean explained, running down the usual suspects. "I don't know what you guys have yet, but so far, we've got nothing."

"Maybe not nothing," McGee corrected as he held up an evidence bag containing a long piece of gold thread. After giving the others a moment to look at the string, he added, "Let's see what Abby makes of it."

xxxxxxxxx

2 hours later, after both the Winchesters and the NCIS team had collected all the possible evidence they could, Sam grabbed a ride back to NCIS with Ducky and Palmer so he could help with research on the victim.

Staying behind, Ziva looked at Dean who seemed to be somewhat troubled by something. "I have been thinking," Ziva began, knowing full well what was on her husband's mind. "And I am just as worried about having this baby as you are."

Dean hadn't really been expecting the conversation to pop up so quickly but he let out a sigh as he leaned against the hood of the Impala. "Last thing I want is to end up raising my kid the way my dad raised me," he said, simply.

Ziva leaned against the car's hood as well and took Dean's hand in hers. "That is the last thing I want as well. So what do we do to stop it?"

Dean knew what Ziva was asking and he wished that it was that simple. But the idea of giving up hunting for good… Could he really do it? Just sit back and live a normal life?

xxxxxxx

Back at NCIS, Tony was frowning at the plasma screen as he brought up the background for Private First Class Jason Woods. Something in his gut was telling him that there was something off with the guy but he just could not put a finger on it.

But there was no one in the squad room to bounce his thoughts off of. McGee was working the evidence with Abby and Gibbs was getting the preliminaries from Ducky.

"Wait, I recognize him," Sam Winchester said, suddenly, looking up from McGee's desk where he was doing research on some other similar freaky deaths in the area lately. "I didn't get a good look with all the blood, but… I knew him. He was in the same Marine unit as Fiona. Dean and I met him on a case in River Pass, Colorado."

"Former PFC Jason Woods," Tony said, looking at the history. "Fairly unremarkable career in the Marines. Left the Corps after a situation in Iraq went pear-shaped. Woods pretty much fell off the grid after that."

"Got something even better," Sam added, bringing up his own information on the screen. "Jason Woods is just the latest victim. 5 other people in the area have died in strange accidents over the past 2 weeks."

"It's like _Final Destination_," Tony observed as he looked at the newspaper articles. "So what do all these people have in common that suddenly they're on Death's shit list?"

"No idea," Sam replied with a shrug. "Different social circles, different jobs, financial status…" Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. "Whatever ties these guys together isn't obvious."

Tony thought for a while and then asked, "What about family histories?"

Sam considered the question for a moment and then went to work looking deeper into the histories of the victims.

xxx

"All six victims—including PFC Woods—had relatives that came over to America in 1912," Tony reported later to the assembled team later that evening.

"Okay, but not just the year is the same," Sam cut in, quickly. "They all came over on the same boat—The _Titanic_—which was the largest passenger steam ship in the world at the time."

"So what do we know about the ship?" McGee asked, looking at the pictures and the bios Sam had put up.

"We are still working on the details," Ziva replied. "Dean is working on a list of the families aboard the ship and Fiona is working on the other so-called accidents that have been cropping up lately."

While the others discussed the case, Dean pulled out his cell phone to call Fiona but before he could even bring up his phone directory, the ringtone for Fiona went off. "Hey, where are you?"

"Hayden, Illinois," Fiona replied, darkly. "Dean… Pamela's dead."

"What?" Dean said, shocked by the news. He looked over at Sam before rubbing his face with one hand. "How?"

"Accidental electrocution," Fiona explained, grimly. "Looks like she was in the middle of trying to contact a spirit or something. Pamela wrote down the name 'Titanic' before she died."

"'Titanic'?" Dean repeated, looking at the others.

"Dean," Sam said, sounding suddenly alarmed. After his brother said a hasty good-bye to Fi, Dean looked up at the plasma screen and the partial list Dean had compiled earlier of the families aboard the _Titanic_.

Two of the names were Cordelia Moira Brendon and her daughter, Fiona Dallas Brendon.

* * *

><p><em>Sioux Falls, SD<em>

"Anything from the boys?" Ellen asked as she came into the house and found Bobby at his desk in the office, looking through a stack of books.

"Yeah," Bobby muttered before looking up at his wife. "Got a bunch of accidents in DC and Fiona just called from Illinois. Pamela's dead, too."

Ellen frowned at that before reaching over and putting a hand on Bobby's. "I'm so sorry. I know she was a good friend."

"Yeah," Bobby sighed, his tone remorseful. Even though it had been more than two years ago, he still felt guilty for Pamela's stabbing and he felt even more guilty for introducing her to Sam and Dean in the first place since that was what had left the psychic blind in the first place.

"I'm sorry, are we interrupting something?" Rufus Turner asked as he barged into the house with Samuel Campbell behind him. Rufus had a look on his face that said that he knew that he and Samuel were interrupting and neither of them really cared.

"What do you want, Rufus?" Bobby grumbled as he went back to his books. "I'm busy."

"We've got a solid lead on what we're dealing with as far as all these so-called accidents," Samuel explained, gravely. "And you're not gonna like it."

"Well, what is it?" Ellen asked, frowning at the other hunter.

"One of the three Fates," Samuel explained. "My guess is Atropos. According to legends and mythology, she's got a bit of a flair for the dramatic."

Bobby frowned at that, not really sure about the details but he just nodded, thoughtfully. "So what's got her panties in a twist?"

* * *

><p>Pacing the living room of the townhouse he shared with Ziva, Dean didn't know what to think.<p>

Sam was still back at NCIS and burning the midnight oil with Abby on the current case and Ziva was on her way to Illinois to give Fiona the bad news about Jason.

Rubbing his face with one hand, Dean sighed and turned his gaze upwards as he said, "Sure wish I knew what the Hell was going on here!" He waited a few minutes and when there was no response, he sighed again and started to turn back towards the kitchen when he was stopped by Balthazar.

"Well, this is a surprise," the angel said as he followed Dean into the kitchen. "For some reason I expected you brother calling me out."

"You got one chance to tell me what the fuck is going on or I deep fry your wings extra crispy," Dean snapped, angrily. "What's with the _Titanic_?"

Balthazar actually looked sheepish and busied himself with pouring a drink from a bottle of scotch on the counter. "In my defense, I never imagined the whole thing would snowball this badly," he said.

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, confused.

Balthazar sipped his drink and poured another one, handing the glass to Dean. "April 14th, 1912," the angel began. "The _Titanic_ hit an iceberg and sank into the briny deep and just over 1,500 people died." Sipping his drink, he went on. "That's the original version anyway. Inspired three movies—One of which was merely intolerable and the other two were cartoon atrocities whose creators have been severely punished."

Dean set his glass down on the small table next to the couch and took a moment before he replied, "You un-sank the ship… over a couple of shitty-ass movies?"

"Trust me, not only did I do the film industry a favor, but let's not forget you and your brother," Balthazar said, defensively. "The ship sinks, Fiona Abigail Brendon is never born. Ellen and Jo Harvelle die and you may or may not end up with your lovely wife."

Dean started at that bit and quickly held up a hand to stop the angel who seemed to be about ready to say something else. "Ju-Just wait a second, okay?" After retrieving his drink and tossing it back before taking a long moment. "You're saying that if _Titanic_ sank… That Ziva and I…"

"Quite possibly," Balthazar confessed as he finished his drink and refilled his own glass as well as Dean's. "And before you go off on me about all this, Celeste and Castiel have already beaten you to it. Yes, I know I shouldn't have done it, especially over a couple of—as you put it—shitty-ass movies. And don't worry—I promise not to re-sink the ship."

"That's nice of you," Dean said, suspiciously, not sure why the angel was saying that. He couldn't help but wonder what the other shoe was.

But the angel sighed and after a while, he said, "I am _not_ doing this for _you_. You see, in the world where the _Titanic_ sinks, Sam's soul spent a year and a half trapped inside Lucifer's cage instead of Fiona's Claddaugh ring. Ellen and Jo die in a massive explosion. Raphael is still kicking and powerful and looking for any opportunity to seek bloody revenge against all of us. Celeste is killed by Zachariah, Gabriel is killed by Lucifer, and God goes completely off the grid."

Dean slowly sat down on the arm of the couch in the living room, playing with the glass of scotch in his hands. He thought about his whole life and especially the past 4 years. He thought of all the things that would be different if Fiona wasn't in his life.

But what if she died? It was a horrible thought and Dean felt a fresh wave of worry as he imagined what would happen to Sam if Fi bit it. "So what do we do now?" he wanted to know.

"One of the three Fates—Atropos—has been working on collecting the family members of the people who should have died on the _Titanic_," Balthazar explained. "Unfortunately… there are only two main options at this point—Kill Atropos which will bring the wrath of her sisters upon us all… Or…"

"Or what?" Dean asked, a sick, sinking feeling in his gut. Balthazar _couldn't_ seriously be thinking about re-sinking the ship… could he? Looking at the mantle above the fireplace, Dean's eye landed on the pictures from his wedding to Ziva. He thought about how much better his life had become after meeting his wife. "Let me tell you something," Dean swore. "I don't give a damn what happens to me. There are only 3 things I can _not_ live without: My brother, my wife, and my best friend. So I don't care what you and the Halo Squad have to do to get things Kosher again as long as Sam is okay, Ziva is okay, and Fiona is okay."

Balthazar studied Dean for the longest time. He'd never understood why Castiel had always been so fixated on the Winchesters of the past couple years. Sam and Dean were… Well… They were brothers. They fought together, they fought each other, and no matter what, they had one another's backs. Even as an angel, Balthazar always found true brotherhood rare. Castiel and Celeste were the main two exceptions and now it made sense why his brother and sister were so fixated on Sam and Dean. "You know it's not likely to be that easy," Balthazar warned. "And Atropos doesn't respond to threats well."

"There has to be something," Dean said, unable to keep the note of desperation out of his voice.

* * *

><p>"So Balthazar unsank the <em>Titanic<em> and now Fate is cleaning up the mess?" Ellen said as she and Bobby sat at the kitchen table. "And that means me and Jo, too?"

Bobby put his hand on Ellen's as he looked away, not wanting to meet his wife's eyes. "Look, we'll think of something, okay?" Bobby said, trying to sound hopeful as his eyes met Ellen's. "I promise. Even if the angels have to resink the ship, we'll make sure nothing happens to you and Jo."

But Ellen knew better than to go along with Bobby's misplaced optimism and after a few moments, she said, "Bobby, the past two years have been the best of my life. And the way you and Jo get along… I wouldn't trade that for anything." Taking Bobby's hand in both of hers, she added, "We can't control what's gonna happen, Bobby."

"Ellen… Don't," Bobby said, quickly, recognizing the words as a drawn-out 'good-bye'. "We _will_ find a way around this. We have to, 'cause…" He looked away for a moment before he said, "Because I couldn't live without you. I wouldn't want to."

"Now you listen to me, Bobby Singer," Ellen said, her tone gentle but stern. "If I go down—I don't care if it's some big fight or an accident—you are _not_ allowed to just give up and cash in. I mean, do you know what that would do to Dean and Sam? If they lose Fiona and Ziva the boys will be devastated enough without dealing with losing you, too."

Bobby started to shake his head in disagreement, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Ellen was right. "You're right," he said, finally, even though he hated admitting it.

Ellen didn't say anything else as she and Bobby just sat there, each lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

><p>As much as Castiel had been looking for Atropos, he was surprised when she actually sought him out and even more surprised when she greeted him with an offer to make a deal.<p>

"A deal," Cas repeated, not exactly sure how to respond to that.

Atropos let out a deep sigh and finally said, "Look… I don't _want_ to do this. I would be much happier just forcing you to go back and resink the _Titanic_! You have NO idea how overworked I've been lately trying to clean up _your_ mess!"

"Then why are you offering to negotiate?" Castiel asked, now thoroughly confused.

The Fate sighed again and fixed the angel with a glare that could have killed if Cas hadn't been an angel. "Because the world that would exist if I _don't_ make a deal would be _way_ worse and it would be because of _you_, Castiel."

"I don't understand," the angel said, flatly.

Atropos glared again and explained. "Celeste never killed Raphael and you started working with Crowley. Because of _you_, the Leviathans were unleashed again and as a result, Bobby Singer dies from a bullet to the head! Bobby isn't supposed to die first. The Winchesters go first, and Bobby dies after that."

Castiel took that in and after a moment, he asked, "What kind of deal are you proposing?"

"You go back and resink the ship," Atropos replied, simply. "_But_… you can save 10 people who were originally meant to die. But only 10," she reiterated with a snap. "Any more and the deal is off. Understood?"

"Fiona Brendon would still be alive?" Cas asked, wanting to make sure of the details.

Atropos nodded but before Castiel could interrupt, she added, "One more thing. Fiona's bloodline dies with her. If she has a child with Sam Winchester, both Fiona and her baby die."

Castiel wanted to argue, but looking at the Fate's expression, he knew that this was a good as the deal was going to get.

* * *

><p>"Why did you unsink the <em>Titanic<em>?" Celeste asked Balthazar a few days later as the two angels sat side by side on a rocky cliff facing the wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. Looking at her brother, she frowned as she added, "I mean, was it _really_ because of a couple bad movies?"

"Do you know what humans in Hollywood love doing?" Balthazar replied, not looking at Celeste. "They love making bad movies. You see people like watching such films so that they have something to ridicule. The movies I'm referring to were an insult to every single person who died upon that ship." Thinking for a moment, he shrugged and added, "Alright, comparatively speaking, James Cameron's version of the _Titanic_ sinking was nowhere near as horrendous as the animated features."

Celeste just shook her head in disbelief. "Well, at least your little stunt didn't do too much damage," she muttered.

"You know, I've been thinking," Balthazar said, pensively. "Do you think Atropos would pitch a fit if I went back and stopped the 9/11 terrorist attacks?

"I swear, it's like you _want_ me to smite your ass!" Celeste said before smacking the other angel hard on the back of the head.

* * *

><p>AN: First of all, I want you to know that YES there are actually TWO animated 'Titanic' movies. And I _strongly_ reccommend that if you really want to take a look at these two films that you look up the related Nostalgia Critic videos on You Tube. I'm not kidding-the two movies are GOD-AWFUL!

Second thing-I briefly mentioned it in this chapter but next chapter I will be focusing on Rufus Turner and Samuel Campbell who (for the sake of this story) have decided to partner up.


	12. Partnerships

AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this chapter was just a look at a couple ideas and notions I decided to put all together into a cohesive chapter. And just because I know that someone down the line is going to make the assumption (Especially given the first part of this story) this story contains NO SLASH!

Okay….

As for this story and the end of season 6 of SPN and the start of season 7 that will be covered in the next chapter which will also be the wrap up for this story. (I am continuing the storyline in a following sequel—the title for which I have no idea on at this time. Ideas are welcome.)

Onward, loyal readers!

* * *

><p><em><strong>Partnerships<strong>_

* * *

><p><em>Samuel Campbell and Rufus Turner<em>

Hunting had changed from when Samuel Campbell used to do it.

He hadn't really trusted other hunters all that much when he used to do the job so he mostly relied on his wife, Deanna, and his daughter, Mary, to back him up when necessary.

Faking his way into a crime scene was also easier years ago. It used to be that all you needed was a fake badge and an attitude. Most cops were more than willing to defer to a fed on the weird and freaky cases so it was easy to bluff your way into a closed off crime scene.

That mistake was why Samuel was now sitting in a holding cell in the local police station.

Two days ago, he had picked up hunter chatter about a possible witch in Valen, Utah who was killing off some locals under the guise of getting rid of so-called 'bad seeds'.

After badging his way past the rookie cop guarding the outside, Samuel had gone inside the house where the latest murder had taken place. That was when things started to go down hill.

The lead cop was one of those old 'I've seen it all' veterans who didn't take lightly to some FBI guy taking over the case. So when Samuel claimed to be from the local FBI office, the cop had called, checking on the story.

"Special Agent Connors?"

Samuel looked up in surprise when he heard his alias's name. "Yeah?"

The cop who'd arrested him unlocked the door, looking a bit apologetic. "Sorry about that. Just got a call back from the local FBI field office—they said your transfer paperwork got lost but they sent over Agent Williams to vouch for you."

Samuel looked even more confused as a black man with close-cropped hair with a mustache and goatee stepped into view. The man seemed to be trying to suppress a smile as Samuel slowly walked out of the jail cell. "Thanks for covering my butt," Samuel said, trying to sound less confused than he was.

"Don't mention it," Agent Williams replied, grinning as he led Samuel out of the police station and to the parking lot. "So… how's hunting solo workin' out for you, Campbell?"

The other hunter stopped dead, fixing the other man with a look. "I beg your pardon?"

"Rufus Turner," the black guy said, still grinning. "Friend of Bobby Singer's. I also know your two grandsons." Samuel was only slightly less confused as Rufus explained his history with Bobby and the Winchesters as they sat in a diner just outside of town. "Anyway, Bobby picked up word that you'd been arrested and sent me to help you out."

"He keeps an ear out for that kinda thing?" Samuel asked, sipping his coffee.

"You should see the network he's got," Rufus replied, clearly sounding impressed. "Health department, Federal Marshals, FBI, you name it. Of course when it comes to NCIS, we've got the benefit of having an _actual_ NCIS Special Agent to cover."

The two just sat in silence for a few minutes as they finished their coffee and lunches. Samuel thought for a moment as something had started occurring to him. Something he didn't particularly like… "Look, clearly you're up-to-date on how hunting works these days," Samuel said, after a while. "And obviously I'm not."

"Oh, you think so?" Rufus said, sarcasm practically dripping from his tone. After a second or two, he grinned. "Are you asking to partner up, Campbell?"

"Yeah…" Samuel nodded after finishing his coffee and signaling the waitress for a refill. "Yeah, I am."

Rufus's expression went stony for a moment, but eventually, he broke into a grin. "Well, alrighty then. So what're you hunting out here, anyway?"

Once the waitress had refilled the two coffee cups and headed off, Samuel filled Rufus in on the case. "Hex work was obvious and the witch is using vengeance as a cover."

"It's always somethin'," Rufus muttered, finishing his lunch and pushing the plate away. "So where is she?"

"That's what I can't figure out," Samuel confessed as he finished his own plate. "Victims aren't connected and they don't seem to have anything in common."

Rufus nodded, pensively, and then tossed some bills down on the table to cover lunch before standing. "Then it looks like we've got some canvassing to do. Let's get to it, Campbell."

Samuel frowned at Rufus treating him like a rookie, but sighed and stood, following his new partner out of the diner and out to the car.

* * *

><p><em>Tony DiNozzo and Celeste<em>

"So what's an angel like you doing in a place like this?" Tony asked as he walked into the bar and sat at the counter.

Celeste smiled at him and put one hand on her hip before raising an eyebrow and asking, "And how long exactly have you been sitting on that line?" she asked with a sassy smile.

"Not long," Tony replied, watching the angel pour a beer for one of the waitresses before doing a sweet bit of bottle twirling before pouring two mixed drinks and three shots. The waitress put all the drinks on her tray and hurried off to her customers. "So I was wondering when I'd be seeing you tonight."

Immediately Celeste shifted from fun and flirty to withdrawn and professional. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," she said, quickly, wiping out a glass before replacing it on the shelf below the counter.

Tony didn't know what to say to that. In his mind, he and Celeste had been getting along great the past few weeks. They'd gone on dates and had laughed at bad movies and a few times had made it back to the bedroom for the most incredible sex.

But the last time they had made love, Celeste had been on top and in an intensely passionate moment she'd surprised both herself and Tony when her wings suddenly popped out.

Unlike most of her brother and sister angels, Celeste's wings were white, tinged ever so slightly with a whole rainbow of colors.

It had taken a moment for the couple to recover from the surprise and even longer for Celeste to get the wings to go away. Afterwards, she'd quickly gathered her clothes and had left the bedroom and Tony hadn't seen her again until now.

"If this is about what happened the other night…" Tony began but stopped when he caught Celeste's look. "I really like you, Celeste. And if you just want to take it slow for a while, I understand."

Celeste just stared at Tony for the longest time. She knew that he was a good man and he deserved to know why she couldn't be with him. "We're too different, Tony. You know that. And the other night was just another example of that. It's just not going to work out."

xxxxxxx

"You know, I never figured you for being a bloody idiot," Balthazar said when he popped in on Celeste later that night as she was closing up the bar. Grabbing a clean glass and one of the liquor bottles that had been sitting on top of the counter, he poured himself a glass of the private stock tequila, sipping it and nodding his approval at the flavor.

"And why am I an idiot?" Celeste asked, putting the tequila back behind the bar.

"Because there is a wonderful member of the human species who obviously cares deeply about you and you essentially told him to piss off," Balthazar replied, sipping his drink while studying the older angel.

Celeste finished wiping the bar down and let out a deep sigh before she replied, "It's more complicated than that."

The other angel raised an eyebrow and shrugged casually. "Well, isn't it usually? Humans make everything so difficult."

"My wings came out while we were having sex," Celeste explained, the words just coming out suddenly. "I was on top of Tony, we were having fun and suddenly there they were!" she went on, miming the event. "I just wanted to have a wonderful night with a man I… and instead I once again emphasize the fact that Tony DiNozzo is human and I'm not."

Balthazar silently finished off the rest of his drink and after a few moments he sat on one of the bar stools. "And?"

"And it kinda killed the romance," Celeste snapped.

"And?" Balthazar prompted again, as Celeste refilled his glass, this time with scotch.

"And I realized that it just wouldn't work between the two of us," Celeste finished, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice.

"Or—and this is just thinking outside the box, of course—you and Mr. DiNozzo could have a wonderful future together," the other angel countered. "I mean, do you really think that you're the first one to… come out during sex?"

Celeste looked surprised at that and after a moment, she said, "I just wish I knew what to do. I mean I do like Tony, but…"

"But what?" Balthazar asked, still not sure what was keeping Celeste from being with the NCIS agent. "You are allowed to be happy, you know."

xxxxxx

The rain was coming down steadily as Celeste walked towards Gibbs' home. It was late, but the angel wasn't bothered by the hour or the rain as she headed down the road. She just wanted to walk and try to get her head around things.

Of all the issues she had about being with Tony, the immortality thing had never been one of them. It was strange—one would have thought that the issue would be heavier, but it wasn't.

"Just tell me what to do, Dad," Celeste said as she stopped walking, tears sliding down her cheeks. "I love Tony. And damnit, why can't I just be happy for once? Why can't I have everything I want?" Winging over to Tony's apartment, she stood in front of the door for the longest time until she realized that she was soaking the carpet beneath her feet. Finally, she reached up and knocked on the door.

* * *

><p><em>Abby Scuito and Gabriel<em>

The small red envelope was sitting on her keyboard when Abby got into her lab the next morning. Her name was written on the front in an elegant script and there was the odd scent of gummy bears and chocolate when Abby opened the envelope and withdrew a card that said _"Got Caff-Pow? No? Check beneath the sheet! G."_

"Okay…" Abby said, looking around and spotting something covered in the far corner of her lab. Walking over, she pulled the sheet off and for a few minutes, simply stared in wonder at the sight before her.

It was her own Caff-Pow machine with a bow on the top, complete with a cabinet for storing cups and straws.

"You like it?" Said a voice behind Abby.

Turning, the forensic scientist saw the archangel-turned-trickster sitting on the chair near her computers and eating a candy bar. "I love it!" Abby exclaimed, happily, as she loaded up one of the cups and went to her computers and started booting them up.

"Hold that thought," Gabriel said, giving his girl a smirk before snapping his fingers and transporting the two of them onto a top-of-the-line private jet with larger windows than usual.

As Abby looked out at the scenery below, she felt her jaw drop as she recognized the Hawaiian coastline.

"How about you forget work for a couple hours first?" Gabriel said as the jet started to land.

xx

An hour later, Abby thought for certain that she had died and gone to Heaven.

It had started with a tour of Hawaii's cocoa processing plants.

Then the romantic lunch beachside…

Followed by the state's only heavy rock band performing just for her and Gabriel.

It wasn't as if Abby wasn't used to romantic gestures but never before had anyone gone to such extreme lengths to impress her.

Gabriel seemed to be an endless supply of gestures and gifts and every single time Abby thanked him, the archangel always had that damned 'Oh, it was nothing at all' smirk that made the forensic scientist swoon like she was a teenager again. Not that she'd swooned even as a teenager…

xxxxxx

As he entered the bar, whistling Michael Buble's 'Come Fly With Me' as he walked, Gabriel sat at the counter and waited until his sister angel turned to greet him. "So how is NCIS Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo doing anyway?"

"Funny," Celeste replied, fixing Gabriel the fruitiest, sweetest cocktail in her repertoire. "How's Miss Abby Scuito?"

"On a lunch break and getting a Thai massage in Thailand, actually," Gabriel replied, sipping his drink. "So… You and DiNozzo…"

Celeste was thoughtful for a moment and then shrugged. "We're working it out. You and Abby, though… Man, the two of you are on a roll, aren't you?"

Gabriel sipped his drink again and shrugged. "You know, after Fiona and Sam got back together and tied the knot, I wondered if I'd find someone I liked as much as good old Fi. And Abby…Whew!" His smile faded, though, as he added, "I have never met anyone with so much love in their heart before. She's passionate, she's caring… protective, brazen… She's the perfect woman."

"And the fact that she's got you matched on the sweet-tooth thing has nothing to do with it?" Celeste asked with a knowing smirk.

"Certainly doesn't hurt," Gabriel replied with a grin.

* * *

><p><em>Tim McGee and Jo Harvelle<em>

McGee's history with women—particularly since joining NCIS—had tended to suck.

The girls he dated tended to either be nuts or murderers or otherwise totally out of his league.

And then Joanna Beth Harvelle had come along, bringing what sometimes seemed like the whole supernatural world with her.

Murders were never clear these days as there was always the question of whether or not the killers were just normal people or something far more sinister.

But even with all that to consider, McGee had to admit that he was feeling happier than ever.

Jo Harvelle looked sweet and innocent on the outside but once you got to know her she was anything but. She was tough and tough-talking and could handle a gun or a knife just as well as Ziva—if not better.

Most people who saw Jo and McGee together rarely gave the couple a second glance but every now and then, someone really looked at the two and wondered how a straight-laced computer guy like McGee had ended up with a hottie like Jo.

xx

"God, I love your girlfriend, McGee," DiNozzo exclaimed as the other agent entered the squad room one morning.

McGee started to glare at Tony but stopped when he saw the container of cookies on Tony's desk. "Jo brought cookies?" McGee said, sounding a bit surprised.

"She is downstairs with Abby," Ziva explained, taking a cookie from the container before snatching the whole thing from Tony.

"Hey!" Tony said, annoyed that his goodies were being taken away.

"Tony, I am pregnant," Ziva reminded him as she went back to her own desk. "I need cookies far more than you."

McGee had tuned out the conversation, however, as he left the two agents bickering over baked goods. Going down to Abby's lab, he found the young hunter and the forensic scientist in the deeper part of the lab talking in low tones as they looked over… Oh, fuck, McGee said to himself as he recognized the notebook where he kept his writing notes. Even worse, he realized too late that he'd fully entered Abby's lab and before he could make a run for it, McGee heard the door close and lock.

"What's the hurry to leave, McGee?" Abby said, sharply as she narrowed her eyes at the NCIS field agent.

"Maybe there's something in here he doesn't want us to know about," Jo said, holding up the notebook and narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend. "Like, say… my whole fucking life's story!" Jo slammed the notebook down on the desk and started towards McGee, hurt and anger in her eyes. "How could you, Tim?"

McGee backed up quickly but Jo was still on the war path. "Look, I-I-I-I was just writing what I was thinking. It doesn't mean I'm actually going to put it in the book!" But as soon as the words left his mouth he immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut because Jo's expression was practically homicidal as she launched herself at McGee, hitting him over and over until she was finally pulled off by Abby and Ziva who had just come into the lab through the back way.

"Jo, I'm sorry, really," McGee insisted, getting to his feet.

"Just go, McGee," Ziva snapped at her coworker.

McGee knew better than to try to talk his way out of the situation and quickly left the lab, hurrying back upstairs to the squad room where he found DiNozzo looking worried.

"Something wrong, McLover?" Tony asked, taking in McGee's worried expression. "Jo's not pregnant, is she?"

"No," McGee muttered as he sat down at his desk. After a long sigh, he said, "I started rewriting 'Rock Hollow' last year. You know—putting in some of that supernatural stuff. Last month… I wrote Jo into it."

DiNozzo wanted headslap McGee into the next century. How in the HELL could the MIT graduate be that stupid? "Let me guess," Tony said, with a mirthless laugh. "She found out that you put her life into your book."

"I didn't even think anything of it at the time," McGee argued. "I was just thinking about Jo and before I knew it I'd done several pages. Then I just kept going…"

"McGee, McGee, McGee…" DiNozzo said, shaking his head. "You are an _idiot_."

"I'm a dead idiot," McGee muttered as he went to work, trying not to think about the consequences of his book writing.

xxxxxxxx

That night, Ziva temporarily kicked Dean out of the house so that she could have a girls' night in with Jo, Abby, and Fiona.

"I should have known," Jo muttered as Abby poured her another drink. "My track record with guys sucks. I should have known better."

"It is not your fault," Ziva insisted. "Abby and I have also been subjects of McGee's writing. I know he did not mean anything personal by putting you into his book."

"You don't get it," Jo said, tossing back the rest of her drink. "I told McGee _everything_. About when I was a kid, about hunting… About why I dropped out of college."

"Where'd you go?" Fiona asked, filling Jo's empty glass with straight bourbon.

Jo blushed a bit and then replied, "The Pennsylvania Culinary School. I was one of the best students and my instructors thought I was on the way to being one of the best pastry chefs out there."

"So what happened?" Fiona wanted to know. She knew very little about Jo as a hunter and was curious to know what kind of life the kid had had before being pulled back into the supernatural world.

"My roommate found my knife collection," Jo explained. "And I'm not talking about kitchen knives. She found all my knives, charms, and stuff and she told the rest of the school about it. I left school a couple weeks later."

xxxxx

"So, for the record," Dean asked as he sat at a table in the bar with McGee, Tony, and Sam. "—after Jo kills you do you want just a standard burial or do you want your corpse salted and burned?"

"I was hoping you could help me figure out how to get Jo to forgive me," McGee replied, sipping his beer.

"And why would we do that?" Dean added, narrowing his eyes. "Ziva showed me what you wrote about what Jo said about her life and hunting. And honestly, I don't care if you write about monsters and demons. But Jo is like a sister to me. And the crap she's been through is something that shouldn't just be passed off as fictional. You get me?"

"I hear you," McGee said, nodding. He did understand what the older hunter was trying to say but he also knew that his writing wasn't just about telling a story any more. He wanted the public to know about the Winchesters and their friends and the angels. They were all out there every day trying to fight off dark forces and no one even knew what was really out there.

As for telling Jo Harvelle's story, that was McGee's way of telling the world about his incredible girlfriend who was practically the embodiment of girl power while still maintaining something of a feminine side.

"You wrote yourself into this mess," Sam threw in as he sipped his beer. "You want my advice? Write yourself out of it."

"How the Hell do I do that?" McGee asked, thoroughly confused.

"Figure it out," Dean replied, simply.


	13. The Demon That Would Be King of Hell

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Watching the season 6 finale and the first could episodes of season 7 I thought that that would be the best ending point for this part of my 'Family Ties' series. I'm planning a 4th story but at the moment I'm without a title for it. All suggestions are welcome.

Now since this story ends on a dramatic note, I'm splitting the final 'episode' if you will into two chapters.

Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>The Demon Who Would Be King of Hell<em>

* * *

><p>Every once in a while one of Crowley's plans blew up in his face.<p>

Like, for instance, resurrecting Samuel Campbell and Sam Winchester.

The two hunters were supposed to help catch Alphas so the Crowley could interrogate them for the location of Purgatory but instead they had gone off on their own.

So now Crowley was forced to take extreme measures to get what he needed. He needed the Winchesters and their little mini-army out of the picture as much as possible and after carefully considering the possibilities, the King of Hell settled on his target.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Sammy!" Dean shouted in panic as his younger brother suddenly grasped his head in pain and nearly screamed in agony.

The brothers were in the living room of Sam and Fiona's townhouse having a celebratory drink with DiNozzo, Gibbs, McGee, Ducky, Balthazar, and Castiel. Well, it was really more of a toned-down bachelor's party. Two weeks ago, Tony had popped the question to Celeste who had accepted after having a brief chat with God about whether angels and humans were even allowed to marry.

Not that that issue had stopped or even slowed down Gabriel and Abby who were—at that moment—on their honeymoon after eloping in Las Vegas.

But all merriment ceased as Sam suddenly started having a grand mal seizure after falling to the floor.

Dean was trying not to panic, but the sight of his brother flailing about was freaking him out. Sam hadn't had a seizure in 12 years and that had been because of some fugly with a weird neurotoxin in it's blood.

When Sam finally stopped seizing after a minute or two, Ducky looked up at Dean. "Help me get him onto the couch, Mr. Winchester," the NCIS Medical Exaiminer instructed. After giving Sam a good once-over, Ducky looked perplexed. "Has Samuel ever had a seizure before?"

"Once," Dean nodded, slowly, his gaze fixed on his brother. "This, us… this monster attacked Sammy, ended up bleeding on him." Rubbing his face with one hand, he let out one long breath. "Is he gonna be okay, Doc?"

Ducky nodded after a minute. "He should be fine in a few hours. Just let him sleep it off and—"

But no sooner had the words left Ducky's mouth, than Sam bolted upright, looking wildly around. He quickly jumped off the couch, eyes darting around as though he expected to see himself surrounded by demons or something.

"Sam, are you—" But as Dean had reached out a hand to his brother, Sam had backed away quickly, expression fearful. He fell as he bumped into the arm of the couch and there was the sound of breaking glass as the younger Winchester landed on the floor. "Sammy, it's okay," Dean insisted, wincing as he saw the blood from Sam's cut hand. "Relax, man, nothing's gonna hurt you."

Sam was breathing heavily but after a moment, he seemed to calm down. That was, until he jumped like someone had touched him again. "Anna? I thought you were dead!"

Dean froze, taking in the fact that his brother was looking at no one and acting like he was talking to Anna, another angel on Team Free Will who had given her life to help save Sam, Dean, Celeste, and Gabriel. "Sammy, Anna IS dead. Remember? We salted and burned her almost two years ago."

Sam suddenly seemed to be pulled back to reality but before he spoke, he started staring at nothing again.

"Sammy, what are you seeing?" Dean said, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder. When Sam tried to move away, Dean tightened his grip a bit—not enough to be seriously painful, but just enough to be grounding.

"Dean," Sam said, in surprise. He looked around and seemed even more surprised when he saw the others. "Why is everyone here? How'd I get out of Hell?" Looking at Balthazar, he stopped, frowning in confusion. "Who's that?"

Balthazar blinked once and then—oddly enough—a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face. "Oh, bugger all," he muttered before winging out suddenly. But before anyone could ask what was going on, he was back looking thoroughly pissed off and holding a young woman by the back of the collar of her shirt. "Gentlemen, meet Theodora. Also known as the keeper of dear old Raphael's grace."

Dean groaned as he glared at the newest angel. "Oh, man, do NOT tell us you—"

"I don't know _what_ happened!" Theodora insisted, pulling away from Balthazar and straightening her shirt. "I-I- blanked out for a couple hours this morning and suddenly, Balthazar was there."

"Okay, will someone _please_ tell me what's going on?" Sam insisted. "Uh, the last thing I remember was me jumping into Lucifer's cage." Glancing down at his hands and the deep cut on the palm of his left hand, he started to say something when he noticed the wedding band on his ring finger. "I got married?" Sam said, feeling even more confused.

Dean nodded quickly and looked at Ducky. "Hey, uh… Fi's got a suture kit in the bathroom. You mind grabbing it while I fill Sam in a bit?"

Ducky nodded and hurried off to grab the suture kit which was—to his amazement—very well stocked with hospital grade materials. Bringing the kit back to the living room, the medical examiner watched as the young hunter made short work of stitching up Sam's cut before bandaging it carefully.

"So Fiona and I are married?" Sam said, surprised, as he studied his brother. "Any kids yet or…?"

"No, but Ziva's got a couple buns in the oven," Tony replied. "Twins."

"And Tony is getting married to Celeste," McGee supplied. "Abby and Gabriel already tied the knot."

Sam just nodded and tried not to look anywhere accept the floor. He closed his eyes tight, trying to mentally drown out the sounds of the others talking. But when he did that, the sounds of Hell filled his brain and Sam could feel the flames and blades tearing into him along with Lucifer laughing at him.

"It's okay, Sam," Anna said, soothingly as she sat next to Sam on the couch. She put an arm around him and let her head rest on his shoulder. "Lucifer's gone. He can't hurt you. You heard what Dean said. Your soul was never in Hell. When Sam looked at her, she smiled. "Lucifer isn't real, okay? It's just a hallucination."

"Then what are you?" Sam asked, looking confused.

"An angel on your shoulder," Anna replied, kindly. "Just here to help keep you grounded."

xx

"So Sam's going to be like this forever?" Dean snapped as he stared long and hard at Balthazar and Castiel. The three were in the kitchen talking after the NCIS crew left, and Dean was scared about leaving his brother alone. "Huh? Hallucinations and freak attacks of God only knows what?"

Balthazar took a breath to reign in his temper and finally said, "Raphael's grace is stronger than that of your average angel. He forced Theodora to perform a very, very old ritual that is making Sam relive Hell. It essentially breaks a person's sanity and they begin to hallucinate and go insane."

Castiel looked slightly nervous as he studied his friend. "Unfortunately, there is no way to reverse what has been done. Neither Balthazar or I have that kind of power."

Dean rubbed his face with one hand and after a moment, asked, "What about Celeste? I mean, isn't healing her big thing? Maybe there's something she can do."

"Well, that was my first inclination," Balthazar replied. "Except that this particular spell is irreversible. Trust me, I'd help if it was possible."

Dean nodded, knowing that the angel was being sincere. "Okay, I get Sam hallucinating Lucifer. But why Anna?"

Balthazar went into the kitchen and poured drinks for himself and Dean. Handing the hunter one of the glasses, he explained. "Sam's brain is apparently using her as a grounding mechanism."

"Which is, unfortunately, all you can do to help your brother," Castiel added. "You need to help Sam keep his mind focused in reality."

"Yeah, that'll be a piece of cake," Dean muttered as he tossed back his entire drink in one go. Looking at Sam who looked to be trying not to look at the arm chair in the corner. "Fi's going to go ballistic when she finds out about this."

"In the meantime," Castiel threw in. "I'm going to try and find out why someone did this to Sam." Looking at his brother, he added, "Balthazar, you should inform Celeste and Gabriel of what has happened."

Once the angels were gone, Dean took a steadying breath before he went over to Sam. "Hey."

Sam startled, but looked up at his brother. "Dean. Uh… I'm okay… I think, maybe." He stood slowly and looked at his bandaged hand. "So… what now?"

"Sam, someone did this to you on purpose. Cas and Balthazar are on it," Dean replied. "The important thing right now is to figure out what the hell is going on in your head."

Sam sat down again and looked up at his big brother. He didn't want to tell Dean about what was happening, but then Anna was there again, a comforting hand on his shoulder and telling him it would all be okay. "I'm seeing things, Dean," Sam said, simply. "Anna Lucifer… flashbacks of Hell." Seeing that Dean wanted details, Sam sighed and went on. "Lucifer says that… none of this—" Sam gestured, indicating the townhouse. "—is real. That I'm still in the Cage with him and Michael."

"And Anna?" Dean wanted to know.

Sam shrugged. "She says Lucifer is the one who's not real. That it's just my mind playing tricks on me." He was quiet for a moment, watching his brother's expression and finally, he added, "I know she's not real, Dean. She's just…the angel on my shoulder, I guess."

Nodding, Dean wasn't quite sure what to make of all this. Even when Sam assured him he was okay, the older Winchester knew that was a steaming pile of crap. Sam wasn't okay. And according to Balthazar and Castiel, he was never going to really be okay again.

But as Sam sat on the couch, he felt relieved that Dean wasn't automatically dragging him to the nearest loony bin.

"He should, you know?" Lucifer said as he sat in the armchair, holding a bloody knife in his hands and using it to pick his nails. Seeing Sam looking at him, the fallen angel clarified. "Dean. He really should just drop you off at the nuthouse and carry on with his life. I mean, how's it gonna be when his kids are born? 'Hey, kids! We're going to Crazy Uncle Sammy's House!'" Lucifer started laughing as Sam tried to pull himself back to the real world.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, grabbing his brother's shoulder as Sam started to freak out. "Hey, stay with me, okay? Focus on me or-or focus on Anna. Just remember—Lucifer is NOT real. You are NOT in Hell!" But before Dean could reassure his brother again, blood started pouring from Sam's nose just as Sam went into another seizure.

xxxxxx

"Where's Sam?" Fiona demanded as she burst into the house an hour later. Looking at Dean who seemed to be just shy of falling apart himself, she asked again. "Where is he?"

"Bedroom," Dean muttered, pointing in the direction of the first floor bedroom. He followed Fiona and when she stopped dead at the sight of her unconscious husband, he said, "He's been out for about an hour. He's breathin', so that's a good sign."

"Dean, what happened?" Fiona asked, as she sat next to Sam on the bed. "Who did this?"

"Crowley," Castiel replied as he winged in with Celeste, Balthazar, and Gabriel in tow. Looking at the Winchesters, he explained. "Crowley is planning on opening a door to Purgatory. He performed the ritual to bring up Sam's memories from Hell as a means of distracting you, Dean."

"Wait, Sam's soul was in my ring," Fiona piped up, confused. "So his soul wasn't in Hell."

"No, but Sam's body was," Celeste replied. "Physical torment doesn't scar like torturing someone's soul, but Sam still has the memories. And there must have been some sort of… block or something keeping them at bay once Sam's soul was back in his body."

Fiona nodded as that news sunk in. "So Sam's reliving Hell?"

"He's also hallucinating," Dean added. "Anna and Lucifer." Rubbing his face with one hand, he stared at his brother. But after a few moments, he turned to the angels. "Tell me you know where Crowley is because I'm going to kill the son of a bitch myself."

The angels exchanged looks and finally, Balthazar said, "While I commend your bravery, you're way in over your head."

But Dean's expression was one of deepest resolve as he snapped, "Sam's my brother, okay? And my Rule #1? You do not mess with my brother and continue breathing air."

"I'm in, too," Fiona said as she stood up. She looked angry and eager for a fight which Dean could certainly understand.

Castiel seemed reluctant to allow the two hunters to take part in the fight but he also sensed that nothing would keep Fiona and Dean away. "We will find you when we've located Crowley. I promise."

With that, the angels winged out.

xxxxx

While the others went to hunt down the King of Hell, Celeste winged over to a local church and was surprised to see Tony standing at the front with a priest. "What's all this?" she asked, looking confused.

Tony beamed at her and shrugged. But after a moment, his expression turned serious. "Heard the world might be coming to an end. If that's the case… then the last thing I want is to spend the rest of my time with the most beautiful woman on Earth or in Heaven."

Celeste felt tears fall down her cheeks as she ran up to Tony and threw her arms around his neck.

xxxx

Crowley sat in the operating theater of an old abandoned hospital sipping a glass of his beloved Craig scotch.

Part of him knew that he should be preparing for the Winchesters but on the other hand, all he was really waiting for was the eclipse in a few days. The rest of the ritual was prepared and everything was in motion. Including… "Took you long enough," Crowley said with a smile as he stood and turned to face Castiel. "Oh, and I should have warned you that once you angels enter here, there's no getting out. Little insurance so you don't fly off and warn the others."

"I was aware of the wards and binding symbols," Castiel replied. "That's why I told Balthazar and Gabriel where you were before I came here."

The demon chuckled softly at that as he set his drink glass on a table. "Good old Cas," he said, jovially as he walked about the room. "Knew I could count on you. You see, while I may be willing to risk popping Purgatory, I'm not suicidal enough to see what happens once all those nasties come over here." Gesturing to Castiel with his glass, Crowley went on. "That's where you come in. I need someone with enough juice to hold everything inside and that just happens to be you."

"And if I refuse?" Cas asked, even though he knew that it would be pointless. No doubt Crowley also had a stash of holy oil somewhere to trap and/or kill any angels who tried to interfere.

But Crowley didn't seem bothered by the question. "Oh, I don't think you'll refuse. Because whether you take in all those souls or I do, your friends are done for. But if it's you, maybe you can let them live a little while longer."

xxxxxxxxx

"Alright, I'm officially labeling Cas a hostage," Gabriel said as he joined Balthazar, Fiona, Dean, Bobby, and Ellen in Sam and Fiona's living room. "He should have been back here by now and he isn't so…"

"So what's the plan?" Ellen asked, looking at the others. "We can't just charge in guns blazing." But catching the evasive looks from the hunters and angels, her eyes widened in surprise. "You're telling me that's the plan?"

"Unless you have a better one," Balthazar retorted. He didn't like the idea at all but maybe with enough people, someone would manage to kill Crowley. Hopefully before the body count got too high.

"Look, Fiona and I are gonna come in through the front," Dean explained. "You and Bobby will enter through the back with Celeste, Balthazar, and Gabriel."

No one said anything about the plan and just as Balthazar opened his mouth to speak, a panicked shout came from the first floor bedroom.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, bolting for the bedroom and finding Sam standing in the room, looking wide-eyed and freaked out. "Sam, it's me, okay? I'm real and I'm right here, okay?" He took a few steps towards his brother but stopped when Sam quickly backed away, looking even more scared than before. Glancing behind him, Dean saw the others in the doorway and waved them off. "Guys, get outta here."

Ellen looked worried, especially when she saw Sam's right hand reaching for the gun on the dresser. "Dean… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Just go!" Dean barked, his heart pounding as he saw Sam pointing the gun at him.

"How do I know, Dean?" Sam said, looking from his brother to the room to Lucifer and Anna who were sitting on the bed. "How do I know any of this is real?"

Sam raised his gun and Dean thought his heart was going to stop when Sam started angling the weapon towards himself. "Sammy? Look at me," Dean said, calmly as he once again started towards his brother. "Okay, I've been to Hell, man. Okay? I know a thing or two about torture." He fought the urge to tackle Sam right then and there. What if he did that and the gun went off? No, it was best to keep talking and try to get his little brother off the ledge. "I know enough to know that feels different than the pain of this-this… stupid, crappy… this."

"N-no, how can you know that for sure?" Sam pressed as he glanced at the bed.

"You're right, Sammy," Lucifer stated, calmly. "Try shooting that gun in your hands. Maybe that will settle this whole thing."

"Let me see your hand," Dean said, suddenly, a thought forming in his mind. But when Sam reached out his right hand, Dean clarified, "No, the-the gimp hand. Let me see it." He saw Sam turn towards the bed as though someone had spoken to him and reached forward, grabbing the hand Sam had cut just a few days before. "Hey," he said, when Sam looked at him. "_This_ is real. Not a year ago—Not in Hell… Now. I was with you when you cut it. I sewed it up!" But when Sam still didn't seem to believe him, Dean, dug his thumb into the wound making Sam hiss sharply in pain.

But as soon as the pain hit, Lucifer seemed to suddenly blink out for a second. "We've done a lot more with pain," the fallen angel reminded him. "Remember when we covered the hooks with the venom of the male platypus? Now that was painful. I thought you'd never stop screaming."

But Sam wasn't listening to Lucifer. Between the pain, Anna, and Dean, he was able to start focusing.

"This is different, right?" Dean pressed on, seeing a faint glimmer that he was starting to get through. "Than the crap that's tearing at your walnut? I'm different, right?"

"I think so," Sam replied, breathlessly as he pulled away from Dean, giving him the gun before digging his thumb as hard as he could into the cut on his palm.

But Sam was still struggling, even as he dug his thumb in deeper and busting the stitches. Not knowing what to do, Dean did the only thing he could think of, and that was to just keep talking. "Hey, I am your flesh and blood brother, okay? I'm the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real time. You got away," Dean added, insistently. "We got you out, Sammy. Okay? Believe in that! Believe _me_," he added, desperately. "You gotta believe me. You gotta make it _stone number one _and _build_ on it. Understand me?"

"Yeah," Sam replied, nodding. He let out a shaky sigh of relief when he saw that Lucifer was gone but was confused why Anna was still there. But she didn't matter. Anna wasn't the problem. And when Sam looked again, the other angel was gone as well. Looking at Dean, Sam nodded. "I'm okay."

"No, you're not," Dean said, shaking his head. "But we'll work on it, okay? Together."

"Right," Sam agreed. Sinking down onto the bed, he watched Dean grab the suture kit and redo the stitched before putting a fresh bandage on it. "So… what were you and the others talking about?"

"Taking out Crowley," Dean replied, simply. Looking at Sam, he didn't like the idea of his brother coming along so soon after everything but he also knew that Sam wasn't going to opt out of a fight. "You game for that?"

Sam thought about it for a moment. His hand was still a mess, not to mention the angel and devil on his shoulder and the Hell flashbacks that were looming. But this wasn't about his mental status. It was all hands on deck, and that meant Sam, too. Even if he was loony tunes at the moment. "I'm in," Sam replied, hoping he wouldn't get anyone killed.


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHOR'S NOTES: As promised, part 2 of the final chapter of 'Pieces of the Whole' complete with cliffhanger because if it's good enough for SPN canon it's good enough for me.

Still need ideas for the title of the next sequel so if you think of one, drop me a line and let me know!

Chapter 12—Part 2

* * *

><p>"Ready for the big show, Cas?" Crowley said with a smile as he looked at the captive angel. Currently, Castiel was standing in the middle of a ring of holy fire looking… Well, Crowley was going to assume it was the angel's 'pissed off' expression, although it was actually kind of hard to tell. "Now, I don't want to panic you, but I imagine this will hurt a fair bit," the demon went on as he started painting an elaborate sigil on the wall in blood.<p>

"Didn't you mother ever tell you not to finger paint on the walls?"

Crowley turned and pretended to look surprised when he saw the Winchesters, Fiona, Bobby, Ellen, and a trio of angels standing there. "Oh, my," Crowley drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm shocked by this unforeseen turn of events." Before anyone could raise a hand against him, the demon waved his hand and sent the whole lot flying across the room where they all landed in a heap. "Be with you in one moment," Crowley said, smirking, before he turned to the sigil.

Celeste looked at the demon and watched in horror as the wall began to break apart and a burst of white light sprang from the hole and was swallowed up by Castiel. "Cas!" She screamed, scrambling to her feet. But before she could run to her brother, she felt two strong pairs of hands grab her tightly. "No!"

When the light disappeared, the ring of holy fire was gone as well and Castiel was lying on the floor, not moving.

"Cas?" Dean said, hurrying over to the still form of his friend. "Are you alright?"

But just as Dean and Bobby knelt down, they were thrown back as Castiel suddenly rose to his feet. He looked at the others and there was the strangest smile on his face. "You needn't fear for me," Castiel stated, calmly. "I am better than alright." He looked at Gabriel. "My oldest brother. It is good to see you as an archangel again. And I am happy for you and your soul mate." Looking at Celeste, he added, "The same goes for you as well."

"Cas, are you okay?" Dean asked, looking at the angel with a puzzled expression.

"I am better than okay, Dean," Castiel reassured him. "I feel all the souls within me. Their power is mine now, to do with what I wish."

Sam was helping Fiona to her feet as the angel spoke and they both looked apprehensive at what was going on. "Uh… that's great, Cas," Sam said, tentatively. "So… What are you going to now?"

"I would have thought it would be obvious," Castiel replied, simply. "I am now your new God. A better God. You will bow down and profess your love onto me, your Lord."

For a moment, there was only silence until Crowley piped up, "If you lot don't mind, I think I'll take that as my cue to leave." And before even Cas could react, the demon had vanished.

"Look, Cas," Balthazar said, calmly, as he approached his brother. "I hate to rain on your parade but you are not God. And you'd do best to get rid of those souls before you do something irreparable."

But Castiel didn't seem to be listening. In a more firm tone, he repeated, "I am your new God. And since you are my loyal family and friends, I will spare you from my wrath as long as you do not cross me."

"And if they do?"

Fiona looked horrified as she saw Gibbs standing in the middle of the room looking… oddly calm considering. But as the sight of her godfather registered, Fi frowned. "Gibbs? What are you doing here? How did you get here anyway?"

The others—minus Castiel—all seemed to be thinking the same thing. But Gibbs just studied the angel-turned-deity and said, "You're not God, Castiel."

Castiel frowned at that statement and shook his head once. "I am God. I have the power and I will smite you if you do not bow down to me."

Gibbs shook his head and replied with one word. "No."

"Bow down or I will destroy you!" Castiel commanded, moving towards the NCIS Special Agent. When he saw Fiona run forward to intercede, Cas sent her flying across the room where she lay in a heap, unconscious. Looking at the others briefly, he said, "You will not stop me." To Gibbs, he ordered one last time, "Bow down before me or I shall smite you and all those you hold dear."

But Gibbs wouldn't be intimidated as he stared at the angel. "You are not God," he repeated. "That power you're feeling? That's the souls of millions of demons and monsters vying for control and the more you fight, the weaker you'll get."

Cas took a step back and raised his hand, glaring as he snapped his fingers to blow up the man who had dared to defy him. But to in immense surprise, Gibbs was still standing without even a scratch on him. "What are you?" Castiel asked, a slight note of fear in his voice.

Around the room, everyone else looked on with mixed expressions. Sam and Dean looked genuinely afraid while Bobby and Ellen both looked dumbfounded. Gabriel and Balthazar seemed unsure of what to do while Celeste on the other hand seemed… oddly amused for some inexplicable reason.

"I told you," Gibbs said, his blue eyes meeting Castiel's. "You're not God, Castiel. I am."


End file.
